A Conversation
Posted by fictionforum on July 29, 2008
“I remember you, Dyon, when you were nothin’ more than a lovesick little boy. Oh, look bored and exasperated all you please, but—you had a soul then, and you weren’t afraid of happiness—weren’t afraid to fight to be happy, with everything you had, against everything you-”
“Calla.” He’s rolling his eyes, his voice thick and heavy, dripping with spoiled honey-like impatience. “Is there a point to this? I’m busy, you know, a busy man with no time to walk down memory lane.”
“I’m busy too, damn busy taking care of Ashley. Protectin’ against your nonsense. ‘Cause I think you do have a soul, still, and you’re just too angry or sad or scared or bitter to believe it. Takes determination to last as long as we have, come back life after life… who you coming back for, huh?
“Not yourself. Not Scallion. Sure as hell not me.”
As usual in Red Calla’s fiery, engaging presence, Dyon keeps silent—the only way to keep ahold of his carefully constructed self.
“I’d bet half my hair and a redred flower the both of us come back for the same person. Huh. At least I know it, ain’t foolin’ myself with this reason or that.”
