It's a Sensitive Topic

Chet pounded on the dorm room door. “Come on, dude, open up!”

“What’s up?” said Jenny.

“Drac locked the door and won’t come out.”

“What happened?”

“I dunno! We were telling jokes, and I told that one about the guy who gets a wish and wants to save it and then he accidentally sings along with the commercial and goes, ‘I wish I was an Oscar Meyer weiner.’”

“Oh, no wonder,” said Jenny.

“What?”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Meyers.” She stepped to the door and rapped gently with her knuckle. “Drac? Come on out, honey. No one thinks you sparkle.”

Echo and Narcissus

“Halloooooo!”

“Halloooooo…”

“My name is Chet!”

“Chet… chet… et…”

Chet scrambled back toward the small cave in the cliff-side. “You gotta try this, Drac. It’s awesome.”

Dracula fiddled with a carabiner and didn’t meet Chet’s eyes. “I cannot,” he said at last.

“What? C’mon, dude; you climbed up here. I know you’re not chicken.”

“No. I am not able. It is… it is like the mirrors. I have no soul. I have no reflection, for there is nothing to come back to me. There is only me.”

“Oh,” said Chet. “So what is it that’s calling me from out there?”