A Conversation With A Boyfriend

by Danny Johnson

Surprised, Laci answered the knock at her door. She stood for a moment, not believing her eyes.

“Why are you here? She moved to shut the door, resisting the urge to spit in his face.

Kevin blocked the door jam, and smiled as if the world owed him.

“Came to see you... Thought maybe you'd wanna talk.”

“Why would you think that?” she asked, reluctantly noting the charm in his smile.

“Because we haven’t talked in a long time.”

“So? Six months of not hearing a word from you and now you want to talk? Did you suddenly grow balls or something?”

“Don’t be such a bitch.”

“Fuck you. You show up at my door after all this time, no phone calls, nothing. Now you want to have a conversation?” Laci’s fingers tightened on the doorknob.

“I missed you.” He stepped forward, his dark eyes challenging her.

“I’m so glad to hear it. I haven’t missed you one damn bit.” Things had been wonderful since he’d left… two dates, no sex, and trying to drown his image with Grey Goose. Laci tried to stare him down.

“Sure you have.” Kevin reached out to take her arm.

“Get the hell out of here.” Two years together, and he just walks out? Nah, there’s no sympathy here. She pulled her arm back.

“Can’t do it.” He took another step.

“Why not, baby?” He was closer. Close enough for the red in her cheeks to betray the scowl on her face. He reached out to touch her again. Gently this time.

“I know you’ve missed me.”

“Why aren’t you with that slut you dumped me for?” She didn’t move away.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“She probably kicked you out... Found out what a fucking asshole you are.”

“However you wanna look at sweetheart...”

"Fuck you."

“Speaking of which, why don't get past all this drama and get in bed.”

“You really think I’m going to have sex with you?”

“Yes.”

A Drunken Conversation With My Shadow In The Graveyard

By Danny Johnson

“Do you believe in the hereafter?” I sat in front of my mother’s grave, whiskey bottle in hand.

“I don’t know, do you?” My shadow only spoke when no one was around.

“Sometimes I do and other times I don’t.”

“What makes the difference?”

“I think things like, ‘this can’t be all of it’, then I have this dark fear that this just might be all of it.” I rolled over to prop up on my elbows, getting the long view of my dark twin.

“Are you afraid of going to Hell?” For a shadow he asked hard questions.

“No, that’s the fear, that neither Heaven or Hell exist.”

“I see.”

“I’m glad you do, because I don’t. What makes us believe in something we have no proof is there?” I took another swig.

“Faith?”

“Whose faith? The Jews, the Catholics, the Christians, the Islamist, the Buddhist?”

“Any of them.”

“You mean they’re all right?” Even drunk I wasn’t buying that.

“What I mean is, it only matters what you believe.”

“What if I die and I was wrong?”

“Who will know?”

“I will.” I drained the last drops from the bottle.

“I guess you will have to deal with it then.” He could be a smartass.

“But it’ll be too late.”

“For what?”

“To have chosen the right way.” I was getting exasperated.

“What is the right way?”

“I don’t know.”

“There you go.”