Date Night

Steamed clams and a conversation about suicide that had us both laughing heartily by the end is a good way to make an acquaintance.

Dispense with the small talk and get on to Love and Death, the only gods we need concern ourselves with in the here and now.

We told one guy we were planning a murder, and the guy told us he was a cop.

She likes sky diving, bungee jumping, "The Sling Shot", and extreme roller coasters while my palms sweat profusely driving over a bridge.

She's been intentionally alone for five years recovering from heartbreak, conquering the career world, getting her own mortgage on a big house.

She keeps telling me about her money, expensive car, big house.

I tell her I don't care.

What I want to know is what your soul looks like.

And so she opens a curtain and lets me catch a glimpse.

I see it in there bounding across the room, throwing itself against the walls again and again, hating the confinement, howling in that sound-proofed box.

You're a little like me.

I have a lot of secrets.

Don't ask me to hurt you.

They all say that.

In the parking lot, it's raining, and we're both feeling good from laughing and strange about what could happen next.