Limp.

an honest goodbye.

 

Limp.

by Boyd Johnson.

 

            "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever." she said without looking up from the joint she was rolling with the expertise of a poet.

 

            It was almost true.

 

            Denis had gone out of his way, to make sure he did not run into Maggie for some weeks.

 

            "I've been kind of busy"

 

            This was not true.

 

            Denis had spent the better part of the weeks passed, passed out at various birthday and end-of-semester gatherings and shindigs. The bar was a lonely place and he had done his best to avoid them as well.

 

            Maggie sparked the joint.

 

            "The night I called you," Halfway through Maggie's smoke garbled inquiry, Denis had already begun preparing a response, "what were you doing?"

 

            "I had to drive up to New Paltz to drop off a friend’s phone."

 

            This was not true.

           

            He knew she wasn't buying it, but it was the best he could come up with.

 

            The night in question, a Thursday not that it mattered, Denis had ignored Maggie's calls because he had gone to a house party near the university, and had attempted to take a girl he did not know, to bed. He had succeeded in getting her clothes off, and getting her into a bed, however when time came, he could not. He spent his night wallowing in misery, embarrassment, and self loathing. Denis sat on the side of the bed, with a very scared and confused girl, covering herself with a blanket after Denis had a bit of a spat with himself over the state of his state. Limp.

 

            Maggie passed the joint over to Denis.

 

            "Oh, well, I just wanted to see if you still wanted to go to Montana next month." Denis hit the joint and passed back over to the driver’s side.

 

            "I really don't think I can." Exhale. "I've got to try and save up some money; I really can't quit my job right now."

 

            This was only half true.

 

            Denis was afraid the wall of a thousand dead and dying dreams he had constructed around his heart, to keep her out, would not withstand this test.

 

            He passed it back over.

 

            "Well I'm still going, and after that, I'm moving back home."

 

            A permanent four hour gap between them.

 

            "I heard about that. I ran into your brother the other day."

 

            This was not true.

 

            Denis had called Maggie's brother, whose name is unimportant, after hearing the news from a mutual friend.

 

            "I'll miss you." She hit the joint.

           

            This was only half true.

 

            "Me too."

           

            This was entirely true.

 

            They finished off the joint, and then they went their separate ways forever; never knowing, that nothing would ever change.

 

            This was true.

Reviews

[pseudonym_7]

Its very abstract which makes it really interesting...
and the way u stay away from the reasons and present it the way an outsider would see it makes it a fun read

[Barry!]

I like the running self commentary - but sometimes it begs a little description... but it's sort of poetic the way it is. The story is, I think, what it should be... a rather sad slice of life. It reads very easily and the title fits very well. An altogether solid job Boyd, keep at it - you're doing fine.