Confession: Short Fiction

We exchanged smiles, then laughter, and finally phone numbers. We walked along boulevards partitioned with magnolias that clung to life under the faint, intermittent glow of the street lights. We encountered a marina and stopped for a moment, conversing as the waves lapped eagerly against the rotting wood of the dock. We watched water fowls plunge down deep, only to ascend playfully moments later, mere inches from the glassy surface of the lake. We shared one another’s company amid passionate conversations about our professions, ambitions, and dreams. All this while indulging ourselves in the finest food the city had to offer.

We enjoyed a long evening visiting historical sites, museums, music halls, and parks. A horse-drawn carriage ride and a meal at our favorite restaurant brought the evening to its inevitable close. As we stood outside my apartment, our eyes drink in the sight of the night sky, its eternal darkness peppered with blazing constellations, like the paintings of a mad god. I wondered idly whether I needed the qualifier.


A shooting star caressed the cosmos as he asked,  “Do you believe in heaven?” His breath shortened, his eyes widened, and his heart seemed to race at my reply.

Our time together ended when my lips confessed with, “No.”