On the Corner of Fourth and Hemming Way
He watched the leftover raindrops fall from the roof's edge and on to the steel toe of his boot. He didn't move as the smaller man approached the corner of the old factory and leaned against the wall.
“You knew I would.” The smaller man had a hood on under which the bottom of a bandage was barely visible in the lamplight.
“I knew you'd get the message. I'm honored you accepted the invitation.”
“Don't pretend to flatter me.”
“And here I thought you'd praise me for finally learning my place.” The man took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and tapped it against his palm.
“I expect you want me to thank you.”
He flipped the pack open and pushed his greasy black hair from his face with a sweep of his arm. “I know you too well to expect something like that, Ian.”
The other man laughed briefly before trailing off and clutching his side.
“And I don't expect forgiveness either.” He moved the pack to his lips and pulled a cigarette out with his mouth. “You know, if things had gone differently-
“Spare me the formalities Ace, for both of our sakes.”
He lit the cigarette. The flare of lighter cast sharp shadows for a second before dying down into the cheap plastic. “Right. Guess there's no need for those anymore.”
In the distance, a siren seared passed. Ace took a deep drag. “So this is goodbye, then.”
“That's a funny way to put it.” Ian tilted his face towards the sky. “I mean, there's nothing really good about it, is there?”
“There is nothing either good or bad-”
“But thinking makes it so. I never knew you were so well read.”
There was a short silence. Ian pushed off the wall and shoved his hands deeply into his pockets. “Why did you do it?”
“Or, perhaps more aptly, why didn't you do it?
“Dunno. Guess I didn't feel like it.”
Ian took two steps, paused, then continued into the dark of the city.
Left alone, Ace dropped the half smoked cigarette onto the damp ground and watched the ember die. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and laughed.
