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Rated: E · Essay · Cultural · #1233213
A breif conversation with an old friend leads to a suprise ending.
"We were such good friends and now you have deserted me."

"Not true."  I replied somewhat offended.  "I visit you once a month."

"Oh you visit to be sure but it is not like the old days when we were Lords of the night.  When we had the go anywhere do anything spirit.  When the servers would worship our coming.  When they would cry at our going.  How could you forget the excitement, and the laughter and all the good times?"

"Not forgotten.  But also well remembered is the risk.  The drives home. The lost chances.  Feeling like I'm lost.  I remember it all very well."

"Lets go right now.  You and me.  We will be Lords again.  I can take you anywhere I can give you everything." 

"But I have been everywhere and I have done everything."

"I promise something new.  Something better than ever."

"Promises are often like clouds.  Beautiful from afar.  But upon closer examination there just wet air.  And really I never have recovered from your last promise."



I pull a knife from a drawer and begin to cut my old friend.  First down the middle of the numbers and then across the magnetic strip.  I see my name in plastic and I cut a circle around it.  Lord of the night indeed.  Says here I'm just a card holder.  A card holder who will being paying his old friend a monthly visit for a very long time to come.
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