This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. My story follows the picture prompt below.
I saw Jim sitting in the corner by himself. It was our ten year high school reunion. Most of the rest of our little gang had gone off to college and then started our profession careers. But not Jim. As far as I knew he was still living with his mother in that small house in Palo Alto.
After about a hour of small chit chat Jim suddenly asked me to take him to the airport.
He pointed to the private jet at the end of the runway. “That’s mine. Google bought my little program for $630 million last year.”