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Description
Still Alive
A Short Story by Justin White

Sometimes, just sometimes mind you, all I want out of life is a quiet evening someplace dark and smoky. Someplace where the whiskey is decent and no one gives a good god damn about making conversation with me. To be just another faceless man in a rumpled suit who's had a long day. I don't think that's asking for too much. Tonight, it seems like pure extravagance.

I don't know how it happened, I don't know how drunk I must have been, but somehow Delilah talked me into coming along to one of her "Society Functions". I don't know which one of her ex husbands club's this is, but I wish to God I was elsewhere. For now I've managed to sneak out onto a balcony for a smoke and some silence.

"There you are!" Well, at least I still have the smoke. I turn from the rather impressive view of the city. Delilah is dressed in all her newest and finest. For someone with ten grand worth of price on her head, she seems terribly unconcerned. "You, Mister, are supposed to be in here playing nice." She smiles and her emerald eyes shine. I think the more uncomfortable I am the more she enjoys it.

"This isn't really my crowd, Dee." I turn back to face the night, it's as clear as it gets here in winter. I can almost make out the moon through the thick layer of gloom that hangs over my city. It may not snow tonight, that'd be a welcome change.

"Oh you're right! No one here has shot at you all night!" She's beside me now and laughing in my ear. "Whatever will you do? Why..." she glances over her shoulder "there's not a single gangster around!"

"You know that's not what I mean; I've never been comfortable around that much money." I slip another Lucky out my pack before offering one to Delilah. She produces a slender black cigarette holder from somewhere unseen and curtseys her thanks. It's a move so ridiculous I can't help but smile. My Zippo flashes to life as I see to both our cigarettes.

"You are a very silly man. I know how much you still have in the bank; how you, of all people, could say you're uncomfortable with money is just beyond me!" She takes a deep inhale and blows out a perfect smoke ring. It hangs in the dim light for a moment before the breeze sweeps it away.

"It's not the cash, it's the attitude. I've seen up more noses tonight than a doctor during flu season." She tries to stifle a snort, smoke coming out her nose. "Which ex husband of yours was a member here? Number three was it?"

"Number two actually! Dear old Harold, God rest his soul." She very nearly makes me believe that was sincere.

"You are the kiss of death Delilah." I shake my head as she feigns indignance.

"I kissed you, and you're still alive!"

"The only reason I am is plain dumb luck, you've nearly gotten me killed three times already! You took money to kill me, twice! TWICE!"

"In all fairness darling, I only lured you to your death the first time. Danny didn't actually pay me to murder you until the second time which, as you know, I most certainly did not! Now he wants me dead almost as badly as he does you! You show such little appreciation for that! I thought you had better manners!"

For a second I just stare at her, I can't tell if she's serious or not. I can never tell with Delilah. Half the time I think she must be completely insane, the rest of the time I'm sure I'm the crazy one, as I keep putting up with it.

"Thank you for not murdering me, while I was buck naked and fresh out of the shower. I really appreciate you not gunning me down for pay."

"Aaaaannnnnnnnddddd…" she looks at me, expectantly.

"And for getting yourself on Danny Doyle's hit list?"

"See! How hard was that?" She laughs and it makes her eyes sparkle in a most distracting way. "You're entirely welcome by the way! I never did care for that little troll Doyle."

"Then why did you work for him?" I try to match her smoke ring, and as usual it doesn't quite shape up.

"He pays very well; a woman has her needs after all! I mean, do you know how much it costs to look this fabulous all the time?" She twirls and gives me a good look at all of her. I can't even imagine how much she spent on this outfit.

"Not to mention replace all those cars that keep getting shot up."

"Yes yes, that too. I should start charging you for those, as they are entirely your fault! A good deed never goes unpunished!" She sighs and moves in next to me, leaning on the rail of balcony. "I suffer so much for you and what do you do when I try to get you to have a little fun? You skulk around in the shadows and complain, complain, complain! Oh, I'm so sad, I have to eat decent food for a change and spend a night not trying to get myself killed! Boo hoo hoo!" She rubs her eyes like a child crying over a broken toy, the sheer silliness of it keeps from getting as mad as I'd like to be.

"You know why I'm doing this Dee, that bastard Doyle stole everything that ever mattered to me." I'm trying not to yell, my voice is cold and flat. "I'm sorry I'm not always smiles and sunshine Dee. I've buried to many people I love, I just don't have it in me."

"But you're still alive, you have a choice! You can make a new life, a good life, someplace far away from this hell hole! Someplace with me…" her voice goes quiet and soft and for the first time since I met her I know for dead certain she's not joking. "Let's go…please let's just go…"

"Dee, I can't…" she looks at me, eyes wet and hurt and angry.

"No, I don't know why I thought you could. Maybe I thought you were still alive, but you aren't, are you?" She spins on her heel and is on her way back into the party before I can pry my lips apart.

I want to say something, I want to tell her she's wrong, I want her to tell her I don't want to bury her too, but I don't. The heavy curtains close behind her and I'm left on my own.

Description
Still Alive
A Short Story by Justin White

Sometimes, just sometimes mind you, all I want out of life is a quiet evening someplace dark and smoky. Someplace where the whiskey is decent and no one gives a good god damn about making conversation with me. To be just another faceless man in a rumpled suit who's had a long day. I don't think that's asking for too much. Tonight, it seems like pure extravagance.

I don't know how it happened, I don't know how drunk I must have been, but somehow Delilah talked me into coming along to one of her "Society Functions". I don't know which one of her ex husbands club's this is, but I wish to God I was elsewhere. For now I've managed to sneak out onto a balcony for a smoke and some silence.

"There you are!" Well, at least I still have the smoke. I turn from the rather impressive view of the city. Delilah is dressed in all her newest and finest. For someone with ten grand worth of price on her head, she seems terribly unconcerned. "You, Mister, are supposed to be in here playing nice." She smiles and her emerald eyes shine. I think the more uncomfortable I am the more she enjoys it.

"This isn't really my crowd, Dee." I turn back to face the night, it's as clear as it gets here in winter. I can almost make out the moon through the thick layer of gloom that hangs over my city. It may not snow tonight, that'd be a welcome change.

"Oh you're right! No one here has shot at you all night!" She's beside me now and laughing in my ear. "Whatever will you do? Why..." she glances over her shoulder "there's not a single gangster around!"

"You know that's not what I mean; I've never been comfortable around that much money." I slip another Lucky out my pack before offering one to Delilah. She produces a slender black cigarette holder from somewhere unseen and curtseys her thanks. It's a move so ridiculous I can't help but smile. My Zippo flashes to life as I see to both our cigarettes.

"You are a very silly man. I know how much you still have in the bank; how you, of all people, could say you're uncomfortable with money is just beyond me!" She takes a deep inhale and blows out a perfect smoke ring. It hangs in the dim light for a moment before the breeze sweeps it away.

"It's not the cash, it's the attitude. I've seen up more noses tonight than a doctor during flu season." She tries to stifle a snort, smoke coming out her nose. "Which ex husband of yours was a member here? Number three was it?"

"Number two actually! Dear old Harold, God rest his soul." She very nearly makes me believe that was sincere.

"You are the kiss of death Delilah." I shake my head as she feigns indignance.

"I kissed you, and you're still alive!"

"The only reason I am is plain dumb luck, you've nearly gotten me killed three times already! You took money to kill me, twice! TWICE!"

"In all fairness darling, I only lured you to your death the first time. Danny didn't actually pay me to murder you until the second time which, as you know, I most certainly did not! Now he wants me dead almost as badly as he does you! You show such little appreciation for that! I thought you had better manners!"

For a second I just stare at her, I can't tell if she's serious or not. I can never tell with Delilah. Half the time I think she must be completely insane, the rest of the time I'm sure I'm the crazy one, as I keep putting up with it.

"Thank you for not murdering me, while I was buck naked and fresh out of the shower. I really appreciate you not gunning me down for pay."

"Aaaaannnnnnnnddddd…" she looks at me, expectantly.

"And for getting yourself on Danny Doyle's hit list?"

"See! How hard was that?" She laughs and it makes her eyes sparkle in a most distracting way. "You're entirely welcome by the way! I never did care for that little troll Doyle."

"Then why did you work for him?" I try to match her smoke ring, and as usual it doesn't quite shape up.

"He pays very well; a woman has her needs after all! I mean, do you know how much it costs to look this fabulous all the time?" She twirls and gives me a good look at all of her. I can't even imagine how much she spent on this outfit.

"Not to mention replace all those cars that keep getting shot up."

"Yes yes, that too. I should start charging you for those, as they are entirely your fault! A good deed never goes unpunished!" She sighs and moves in next to me, leaning on the rail of balcony. "I suffer so much for you and what do you do when I try to get you to have a little fun? You skulk around in the shadows and complain, complain, complain! Oh, I'm so sad, I have to eat decent food for a change and spend a night not trying to get myself killed! Boo hoo hoo!" She rubs her eyes like a child crying over a broken toy, the sheer silliness of it keeps from getting as mad as I'd like to be.

"You know why I'm doing this Dee, that bastard Doyle stole everything that ever mattered to me." I'm trying not to yell, my voice is cold and flat. "I'm sorry I'm not always smiles and sunshine Dee. I've buried to many people I love, I just don't have it in me."

"But you're still alive, you have a choice! You can make a new life, a good life, someplace far away from this hell hole! Someplace with me…" her voice goes quiet and soft and for the first time since I met her I know for dead certain she's not joking. "Let's go…please let's just go…"

"Dee, I can't…" she looks at me, eyes wet and hurt and angry.

"No, I don't know why I thought you could. Maybe I thought you were still alive, but you aren't, are you?" She spins on her heel and is on her way back into the party before I can pry my lips apart.

I want to say something, I want to tell her she's wrong, I want her to tell her I don't want to bury her too, but I don't. The heavy curtains close behind her and I'm left on my own.