"Well..that was unexpected,"
replied a wry Daven. The crow on his left shoulder cawed in reply. In a second, she catapulted out of his arms, shaking.
"Whoa...calm down, Danielle..."
He quickly closed the door behind him and locked it.
"They said you died...Oh God..."
"I did. But I'm back."
He then proceeded to tell her how he died. After he was done, Danielle did one thing unexpected: she passed out. No screaming, no stammering or hysterics. That was new.
***********
Danielle awoke on her sofa, Daven by her side, a wet cloth in hand. Dabbing her forehead and eyelids gently while the crow watched her like a dark guardian.
"Don't faint on me again, Danielle."
"Its true then? You're dead."
"Yes."
Silence.
Suddenly, she flung herself upon him and hugged him fiercely, sobbing uncontrollably.
His shirt was drenched and dirty but she didn't care.
"I miss you so Daven...."
"You do? After what I did?"
"Oh God I do, I do, I do."
She smelled of Lolita Lempick and freshly-cut roses. Her skin so pure it was crying to be tainted. Her luscious lips screaming to be kissed...
"What's with the candles?"
"For you."
"What?"
"To mourn your passing. Though you're alive now-
"No...keep them for a little while-Classy they are."
"You got a point there."
"Want to change into something clean?"
"Sure. Oh, do feed Edgar for me will you?"
"You mean the crow?"
"Yes. Now if you'll excuse me..."
She passed him three pairs of clothes (she kept them to remember him by after his death) and went to brew some coffee.
Half an hour later, as she poured some coffee into three cups, she heard Daven ask her,
"How do I look, D?"
She turned and held back a gasp.
Daven wore the leather trench coat he got in a Harley Davidson shop. Under it, a white ruffled blouse, giving him an 18th century Victorian style. His pants were jet black (of course) and his shoes the same color. His shoulder- length hair was let down. Edgar looked up from his raw meat and cawed his approval of Daven's fashion. Suddenly, a soft cooing could be heard from the balcony.
"That's Pearl."
With that, she left for the balcony-and returned with a dove in her hands.
"She's lovely."
"Thanks. So are you."
Daven smiled. The red and brown attire was less interesting than his favorite black.
"You are no less charming in that white attire, Danielle...and did they say white's for virgins?"
She blushed.
"Why are you dressed up like that for?"
"I'm going to-
The doorbell rang.
replied a wry Daven. The crow on his left shoulder cawed in reply. In a second, she catapulted out of his arms, shaking.
"Whoa...calm down, Danielle..."
He quickly closed the door behind him and locked it.
"They said you died...Oh God..."
"I did. But I'm back."
He then proceeded to tell her how he died. After he was done, Danielle did one thing unexpected: she passed out. No screaming, no stammering or hysterics. That was new.
***********
Danielle awoke on her sofa, Daven by her side, a wet cloth in hand. Dabbing her forehead and eyelids gently while the crow watched her like a dark guardian.
"Don't faint on me again, Danielle."
"Its true then? You're dead."
"Yes."
Silence.
Suddenly, she flung herself upon him and hugged him fiercely, sobbing uncontrollably.
His shirt was drenched and dirty but she didn't care.
"I miss you so Daven...."
"You do? After what I did?"
"Oh God I do, I do, I do."
She smelled of Lolita Lempick and freshly-cut roses. Her skin so pure it was crying to be tainted. Her luscious lips screaming to be kissed...
"What's with the candles?"
"For you."
"What?"
"To mourn your passing. Though you're alive now-
"No...keep them for a little while-Classy they are."
"You got a point there."
"Want to change into something clean?"
"Sure. Oh, do feed Edgar for me will you?"
"You mean the crow?"
"Yes. Now if you'll excuse me..."
She passed him three pairs of clothes (she kept them to remember him by after his death) and went to brew some coffee.
Half an hour later, as she poured some coffee into three cups, she heard Daven ask her,
"How do I look, D?"
She turned and held back a gasp.
Daven wore the leather trench coat he got in a Harley Davidson shop. Under it, a white ruffled blouse, giving him an 18th century Victorian style. His pants were jet black (of course) and his shoes the same color. His shoulder- length hair was let down. Edgar looked up from his raw meat and cawed his approval of Daven's fashion. Suddenly, a soft cooing could be heard from the balcony.
"That's Pearl."
With that, she left for the balcony-and returned with a dove in her hands.
"She's lovely."
"Thanks. So are you."
Daven smiled. The red and brown attire was less interesting than his favorite black.
"You are no less charming in that white attire, Danielle...and did they say white's for virgins?"
She blushed.
"Why are you dressed up like that for?"
"I'm going to-
The doorbell rang.
