This Tragic Affair

Ronnie and I sat in a small booth by the window. We chatted for the first few minutes, then got down to the important stuff.

"So what happens next?" I wondered. Staring out the window, I watched all the people glide by, in front of the gloomy storefronts and behind the dark carriages. "I mean, what do I do?"

"Well, there's not exactly a single answer to that. I think what you're after though," he said, giving me a thoughtful glance, "is where do you stay tonight?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't want to spend my afterlife in the gutter." He laughed a bit at my honesty. I don't blame him, but I really didn't want to spend time in the gutter. I thought I had done enough in my lifetime to not deserve it.

"Okay. Tell you what. To spare you the gutter, you can stay at my place tonight, then we'll start you out tomorrow. How's that sound?"

"I don't want to impose or anything..."

"Relax. It's no trouble."

"Are you sure?" Really, I didn't want to intrude, but I didn't trust this guy. I mean, sure, he was supposed to be my 'mentor' for the afterlife, but still. I didn't know him. This was a bit forward for someone who just met me, after all.

I fought with myself for a bit and realized that spending the night with Ronnie sounded a lot better than spending the night on a bench. So, I said yes. [I wasn't enthused, but I said yes.]

Unfortunately, Ronnie noticed.

"Hey, what's with that face? I don't bite or anything." He seemed a bit hurt.

Okay, maybe I hadn't given him enough credit. After all, he had taken me to meet my favorite band! Plus he was being nice enough to offer me a place to stay and I was being ungrateful. Who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

"I know...I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't worry," he cooed. "Tomorrow, we'll get everything set up." Ronnie reached across the table and placed his hand on one of my own. I didn't say anything on account of the generosity he had shown me, but I wasn't exactly thrilled. Needless to say, he wasn't helping his case any.