My long time friend

When I was 5-years-old my father would drag me to the bowling alley with him on Sunday nights. I never wanted to go, but there was never anyone home to watch me, so I was stuck listening to the pins crashing while my dad and his buddies drank cheap bear and chain smoked cigarettes. There were never any kids my age to play with until one night I found an old doll laying next to a bunch of greasy pizza boxes. It was a blue bear; a little scruffy looking with a sun embellished on his belly. I named him stitch because his right eye was missing and in its place were two bold, black stitches. He was pretty gnarly-looking and a little rough around the edges. I like to think of myself in that way, I think that's why I've held on to him for so long. 15 years later my father passed, and I still have that homely looking bear sitting on a shelf in my room as a constant reminder of the memories I made with my father in that stinky old bowling alley.

Author's Note

For the 3 word story contest. :)