Billy Writes A Little

... a dark, hunter green Camaro with fully tinted windows pulls into the driveway.
I grab my wallet and keys and nervously step out of the house and lock the door behind me.
Climbing inside, I sit down hard beside her in the plush bucket seats. No hello's are spoken.

Maybe it was the fact that the time between visits had grown longer. How the usual six months
or so of not seeing her had grown to a full year. But this time it all seemed more ominous.
"You know" i said, "sometimes you scare me." She gives me that arrogant knowing smile i have come to expect from her and replies, "Why is that?"

I look away from her. Too scared even to say it to her face. "Its just... that sometimes.. I think you don't expect to live out the day." With the last word slipping from my lips i face her again.

"Oh really?", she says. Smiling even wider. "Why does that scare you?"

Not letting me turn away this time. I can feel her pulling it out of me. The words i dread to speak.

I hear myself say, "because i know that you will still out-live me."

She starts the car.