“When I Was A Boy”-Friday Flash Fics- Friday, March 13th, 2020.

I had no clue whatsoever for this pic and thought I might be stumped for good. Then, typical Pisces, I find my answers in my morning shower , and when I re-examined her hands and hat it all sort of flashed over me. Enjoy

When I Was A Boy

There i stood, the ugly American having no idea what she’s just said to me. I had the right boat for sure, it was the only one there! Did they tell me a color? She keeps pointing to her hat, and I’m half wondering if I’m supposed to wait for someone with a different colored hat, and half trying to process the images that flashed through my mind when she hugged me.

Two boys holding hands, skipping along the river.

I thought there was something about the landscape of this part of Cambodia that felt familiar. Now this happens.

“So sorry!” I hear the voice of a man behind me, presumably my guide. “I am Pich, your guide. We will meet our driver when we reach the other side. You are Jacob, yes?”

I shake my head yes.

“Nimol! Nimol!”, the old lady mutters, pointing to her hear and laughing. She laughs almost as hard as she did when she hugged me and lifted me high into the air when I first approached her on the dock. I had rehearsed saying my boyfriend’s name and the name of the province, Phnom Penh. After two years this is the first chance I’d gotten to come here, to meet up with his family. He came back earlier for his cousin’s wedding.

“Kosal.”

I didn’t even get to his last name before she screamed out loud, nearly scaring me to death and wrapped her arms around me, laughing and crying at the same time.

I thought she was nuts.

Two teenage boys sleeping arm in arm in front of a firepit, nuzzling.

The reflection of flames in his eyes, tears rolling down his cheek.

Nimol!” Now she is pointing at me, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye with back of her other hand. She pulls the cord on the outboard motor and we make our way across the river.

“What was she saying to me? Before you arrived, I-”

“Yes. I saw her lift you as I approached from my boat! Nimol can mean ‘clear mind’ or it can be a name. i will ask her to be sure.”

More images flash over the front of my mind.

Two young soldiers, fighting hand to hand combat along side each other.

Tears rolling down my cheek, holding my hands over the hole our enemy made in my lover’s side. I yell out his name to the smoke-filled sky.

“She says she knew you, twice before. When she-” Pich pauses, asking her to clarify something.

“When she was a boy.”

She nodded sheepishly at me from under the brim of her hat.

“Thom!” I blurt out a name and as I do our history unfolds to me in the blink of an eye. How Thom was my best friend, and when his village was burnt down he stayed with me and my family. We fell in love and then later as soldiers together he died in my arms

“We must hurry! Our driver will only wait another minute before leaving!”

Pich leaps out of the boat as we approach the dock and my own tears start to fall as she secures the boat.

“Thom!!” I am the one picking her up now, sensing a familiar energy i had spent too many lives searching out and never finding.

She says it again, and this time I need no interpreter.

“When I was a boy!”

Muses and Moons-Friday Flash Fics- Friday,October 4th, 2019.

I have nothing really to say about this other than what I came up with originally felt too long and contrived so i just – didn’t. And then this blarbed out and I’m happy the direction it took which is a nice stray from “the normal” buffet of sexuality. ( Normal people scare me, its true.) And yes, while the reaction is soooo too quick to be accepted, this is my little exercise. My choice, my Wawa. Enjoy!

Muses and Moons 

The sheets of rain were relentless.   

Though his boss warned him to leave earlier than seven O’clock, AJ got caught on a crisis call that kept him later than usual.  

By the time he got to the bridge it had already been closed for the state of emergency that the New Jersey governor declares much too often. Instead of his normal panic, AJ decided he’d swing by a hotel and get a room for the night. He might finally get some writing done for a change. On the way, he spots a rugged, soaked figure thumbing for a ride next to an SUV that didn’t make it through a flooded part of the road under the bridge. AJ flashed his high beams a few times and opened the passenger door.  

“Whew! Aw man I’m totally grateful. I was about to walk back up the ramp myself before you showed up.” AJ smiled, handing the man a roll of paper towels from the backseat, getting a surge of energy when the man’s hand lingered a second or two under AJ’s contact.  

“I’m AJ.”  

“Saros.”  

“Cool name! Is that Greek?”  

“Nah”, he laughed. “More like geek, space geek to be exact. My parents- both teach astronomy. It’s supposed to be the name for a cycle when an eclipse keeps repeating itself.”  

 AJ nods and turns the car around to head back towards the direction of the hotel. He gets a glimpse more of Saros under the passing streetlamps: grey-blue eyes, light brown hair, crooked smile, scruffy, maybe fifty-two at the most. Saros catches AJ’s inspection of him and winks.  

“What’s AJ stand for?” 

“Uh… Alex. Alexander James.”  

Uncomfortable silence as Saros gets more comfortable, taking his coat off.  

“I was heading to the Crown Plaza in Camden, see if they have rooms for the night.”  

Saros nodded.  

“That’s as a good a plan as any!”  

*** 

“Hi,” AJ says at the hotel front desk.  

“Do you have any more rooms available?”  

“Only one left. 8th floor rear, opposite the round house. Gotta warn ya, it gets noisy over there after 2am, and the sirens echo up that alley like a tin cave.”  

“It’s fine, we’ll take it!” Saros is beaming a wide smile, and pays for it with his credit card before AJ can even start to protest. In the elevator ride, Saros makes a bold move and picks up AJ’s hand. AJ attempts to clear the air.  

“Ok, so… this?” He points to himself then Saros. “I guess you noticed it too. But Saros I have to tell you-”.  

Just then AJ was silenced by the most passionate kiss he’s had in more than a few years. He didn’t hear the bell dinging their attention to the 8th floor. He floated hand in hand with Saros down the hall and into their room. One giant king bed.  

AJ dropped Saros’ hand and spun around. He had to lay down the law now before things got out of control.  

“Alright lover-man, look: obviously we have an attraction, and I really didn’t expect this or expect you in my life, at this point.”  

“Yeeees?” Saros attempted to move in for another kiss; AJ deflected his hands down and away.  

“Aaaand- I didn’t expect us to share a bed, at all. And yes- while kissing you is nice and all that…right now I am asexual.”  

“A sexual what?”  

AJ shakes his head and flashes the whites of his eyes so hard it makes Saros laugh.  

“I’m kidding! I know what asexuality is, and I promise to be a perfect gentleman and I will respect your boundaries. Would you…  still be interested in some light kissing and maybe a cuddle? Or two?”  

“Definitely a few more kisses and ONE cuddle only, mister!”  

*** 

Saros wakes to the rat tat tat of AJ, writing at top speed.  

“It’s 3am, do you know where your cuddle buddy is?” He says, planting a kiss on AJ’s naked shoulder, taking in the glow of the city over the bridge lit by a full moon.  

“Mmm-hmm. No!” He waves Saros off. “ Finish this, I need to-”  

Saros laughs, backing off, sitting at the edge of the bed, just watching AJ’s silhouette against the moonlight, and notices the hotel wall art of two guys in a canoe bathed in what looks like the Aurora Borreallis.   

Five more minutes go by.  

“Woah!!” AJ exclaims, leaping up and stretching. “This is the most I’ve been able to write in a long – wait. No. Scratch that. This is the most productive writing I’ve done, ever! Period.” 

“Did I know you were a writer?”  

“I’m sure I mentioned it,” AJ said.  

“I’m sure you didn’t, because I would’ve then told you I used to be an editor for a prominent gay magazine.”  

AJ flashed a smile across his face.  

“Oops. Thought I did.” 

“Oops!” Saros responds, revealing his protruding excitement. AJ looks quizzically.  

“You are so hot to watch when you’re writing like that, in the moonlight –you look as gorgeous as that wall art.” They both look over at it, and then back at each other.  

“I might have to, uh- you know.”  

“By all means, toss a load!” AJ says, kissing Saros before moving back to his laptop. “I’ll just 

 keep doing what I do best to help that along!”  

After some time and half a chapter more, Saros falls back on the bed, panting.  

“I gotta admit, this is a new one for me, but still in the top five.”  

AJ forced himself away from the laptop for another snuggle.  

“Yeah? Well I’m glad it works for you because you- my scruffy friend- are

my new writing muse. Apparently.”  

 “So- for all of our future dates, do you promise I can watch you write?”  

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”  

As Until The Day- Friday Flash Fics for Friday, September 27th, 2019.

This fits perfectly as the light in the sky behind the guardians of the character, Asav as his chanting gives birth to a reversal of dark matter into light in the piece Ollie Ollie Oxen Free! and it might be a good idea to check that out first since the whole idea is uh, kinda “out there”. Enjoy, maybe?

As Until The Day

“Hello, Alexi Mir’s assistant, how can I help you?”

“Uh, this is Asav Mad- ”

“Oh my! Oh yes! Alexi’s ben trying to reach you for days! He’s coming off set now, please just one moment!”

Alexi’s filmmaking career took off like a rocket with the success of his student film at NYU, juxtaposing inner and outer realities with the removal of time. Asav didn’t know how he knew what he knew, and wasn’t at all sure he was even living in a specific reality of “now”. A quick call to his old friend would give him some external root to hang his sanity on at the moment, even if it was approaching ten O clock in New York City.

“Asav what the hell is going on out there? I know you told me there would be some crazy big changes, but…”

Asav hadn’t fully realized that the dark matter conversion would really be happening, or visible to others.

“What’s, uh… what’s everyone saying about it?” Asav asked.

“Oh nothing,” Alexi started. “Just CNN reporting that there has been an eruption of a beautiful spiral shaped light, out over the Pacific Ocean, three hundred miles away from the California coastline.”

Asav felt his heart skip a beat. He had been chanting and meditation non-stop at night for the last three nights. With his eyes shut he got a sense of what was happening, the energetic spirals visible through his third eye during deep meditation. But he has yet to see it with his own eyes.

“Yes and so apparently it’s not only so bright that there is no darkness in that part of the sky, but that it’s extending the atmosphere of the planet- out and up! Three hundred miles due west of a little town called Big Sur! Oh my, Asav…. what a coincidence!”

“Ok, ok you can stop now, Alexi. I can feel that smile across your face is so big I would need sunglasses before hugging you. You know it is not bad or harmful, right?”

Alexi nodded, and knew Asav felt it.

“It’s like the little bits of info- pieces of the puzzle from that vinyl you spun during afterhours…”

As Until the Day? by ‘The Knowledge?” Alexi asked and felt a ping of affirmation before the answer registered in Asav’s brain. The friendship they forged on the dance-floor as young, gay men was a deep soul connection in which they could finish each other’s thoughts seamlessly.

“I’m going to talk to Amar- he and The Order know more than I could ever hope to understand. But I think the planet may need some kind of help to digest what’s going on…” That is, right after I come to grips with it all myself.

“And?” Alexi prodded.

“And… I couldn’t stop thinking about the film you were going to do- the one before you got death threats about it and stopped filming.”

Alexi nodded and understood.

“What am I going to say, no? OF course, whatever you all need.”

“Ok- lemme talk to Amar.. after I see it for myself.”

“You haven’t seen it yet?”

“It’s a long story that I’m sure I can’t share with you, but no. I’ll go and see it now with Amar. And of course, Mums, right? Love you, bye.”

“Love you, hon and give that man of yours a big squeeze from me. And yes of course Mums-the-word, silly man!” Alexi wasn’t exactly sure where any of this was going, but he was surely not going to let on about it. To anyone.

***

Amar was already at the water’s edge outside of their beach house in Big Sur, staring at the spiral that just revealed it’s edges more as dusk attempted to retake the sky.

“Feel better now?” Amar asked Asav as he joined his partner at the water’s edge. Asav gave Amar a hug from behind. “Yes, that’s from Alexi, by the way. I just… had to feel less crazy.”

“Mmm-hmm. I get it.” Amar breathed in the smell of Asav’s skin.

“And I think we’ve come up with something that you and the Order can do to help the rest of the planet feel not so crazy.”

Amar nodded, his eyes fluttering as a query ping sent information in from beyond. Asav knew it, felt it, but was happy to be so mesmerized by the light spiral that he missed it entirely.

Temptation of the Office of Retribution-Friday Flash Fics-Friday,May 24th, 2019.

As soon as I saw this image, I knew I was going to be writing a pre-quel to Master Bait. I wanted to make this into a short story but couldn’t figure out how to place Samael on the planet, in any modern sense. When I saw the face in the breath of the wolf, it helped me fill in the gaps!

Xander’s dreams turned into a maze of twisted nightmares.

He’d walk and walk and walk for what seemed like hours until he’d run across a family member that has already passed, or his best friend, or his Mother. He figured it was the massive doses of Dilaudid that was responsible. Tonight was more of the same, their voices not terribly comforting.

You’ve got to stop being so open, man! You’re gonna get yourself into trouble.

Enough with your ‘free love’ hippie stuff, please! How can you expect me to get any rest knowing you’ve made yourself a human target?!? You’re gonna get yourself killed, one day.

Xander found himself walking on thin air above the intersection where it happened, outside his friend’s apartment at 16th and Spruce.

Let someone else help the homeless, man. You’ll pay for it someday.

Being a good samaratin will get yourself killed!

The air he was walking on, turned to a very brittle, thin sheet of glass, cutting into his feet.

You’ll get yourself killed, you know.

He saw himself down on the street below. Four attractive guys with buzzed haircuts were asking him directions from inside their car.

What? Of course I know where Woody’s is! I’m just passing through myself, but I can tell you.. Oh? Thanks! I think you guys are really cute too! What? Go for a ride? I don’t think I want…

He saw it happen in slow motion, right there beneath his bleeding feet.

You’ll get yourself killed, one day.

One day you’ll be done in for good!

The voices would blend into an endless cacophony, same as every night. Except the last few nights the wolf appeared and took him away to a midnight run in the woods, sparing him the replay of the last painful moments.

He looked around for the wolf and couldn’t find him.

All Xander experienced now was the streetlamp approaching, and the four men, laughing in the car, their iron-like grip on his arms, his belt, keeping half of his torso in the car window. Xander was kicking and screaming but all he heard was their laughter, the acceleration of the car’s engine. The smashing of glass and bone. He tasted the smell of Polo cologne and burning rubber, and then the taste of his own blood.

* * *

When Xander woke up, he could swear he was still kicking. He could swear he felt their fingers still probing around his crotch. He looked down at his lifeless legs and felt the rage burning inside of him again. All of the peace and love of his former self transformed into rage when the four college seniors left the courthouse the day of the trial; they wouldn’t serve a day in jail. One of them was the son of a senator. Money bought them all ankle bracelets for a few years and probation.

They walked out. They walked out the door and down the front steps while I waited for the special handicapped elevator! Xander tried to stop the cascading negative spiral of where these thoughts usually took him. For the last year and a half, again and again.

“Sounds like someone needs to move on.”

Xander heard a man’s voice, reverberating, echoing. Like it was being broadcast five times but a few seconds apart.

“No, you’re not crazy. But you’re inner light has turned to a rage that is so brilliant it caught my attention.”

Xander looked down the hall from his bedroom. The money from the court case got him a rehabbed cabin in the Poconos; it was all on one floor and had a wrap around porch.

“No silly! I’m out here.”

Xander threw off the covers and hoisted himself into the wheelchair next to his bed. He wheeled himself to the french doors and out onto the porch. he loved the smell of the pine trees, tonight is was mixed with the scent of a distant skunk. He smiled as he inhaled but saw no one.

“I love the smell of the skunk, too.”

Xander wheeled around to come face to face with a wolf. He heard the voice laugh from inside his head, the closer he was the longer he heard the echo effect.

“No, no. You’re not crazy. Not at all.”

You’re the wolf, the one from my dreams, Xander thought to himself.

“I am, indeed.” The wolf, blinked, licking one of his front paws.

“Thank you.” Xander said out loud this time, reaching out to pat the wolf on the head. The wolf growled and showed his teeth.

“Tut, tut, tut. You’ll have the chance for that, but not too soon. Not until you have all the facts. And uh, let’s keep this conversation between you and I? The less who know the better for all.”

The less who know about what? That I’m losing my mind? That I’m talking to a wolf ?

“The less who know the offer I’m about to make you. You and I are rather similar, you see.”

Xander wheeled himself to the opposite side of the porch, looked out over the moonlit trees beneath his cabin, picked up a cigarette and lit it.

Fine, I’m not crazy. Xander thought to them both. How are we so similar?

“First of all we both enjoy transient lifestyles. Well, before your incapacitation, at least. And even though you don’t know it yet, you have a very vengeful soul. You feel rage at injustice, it burns inside you until the scales of justice are balanced. Which is why your night-scape is so self-torturous.”

Xander smiled a crooked smile, locking eyes with the wolf. It would seem you know me well, especially if you’re rescuing me from my own nightly torture.

“I can do more than that. You see you torture yourself because you feel the entrapments of a moral code that is broken and amidst a corrupt justice system. I can give you the means to not only walk again, but to take on the bodies of those who are deserved of God’s divine wrath. You can continue your transient lifestyle, walking the Earth, transforming and punishing the souls who’ve slipped through the fingers of earthbound justice. You would travel body to body. You must only do this where the revenge is justified, or it is you who will feel HIS wrath!”

Just so I got this straight- I’m going to become some extension of the wrath of God?! Xander started laughing but before he could break eye gaze the wolf continued.

“I AM SAMAEL, chief angel of the 5th heaven. I embody both good and evil, and I deliver punishment unto mankind to those who have passed through the wheels of justice unscathed. I also need to return home, I’ve been here, on Earth, far too long. I’m offering you the physical office of my retribution, and being an agent of myself you will declare your actions as my own. You will serve this office, if you accept, for three years until I return. I will offer you to trade places with me tonight, for one night’s time. Consider it a test drive. After tonight if you wish to continue you shall. If you want to return to your wheelchair and nightly despair, that too is your choice. All that you need to know will be passed to you. It is important you do not physically touch me, not until you are ready to take the office full on.”

Alright, Xander thought to them both.

The Wolf sat back on it’s haunches and emitted a mist from it’s mouth. In the mist, Xander made out the image of a face, eyes, nose and mouth. The mouth started to move, and Xander got further instruction.

“If you wish to trade places for a night, focus on my eyes in the mist, breathe out, close your eyes, and breathe in. This offer only stands as long as this mist is here.”

Without much hesitation, Xander locked eyes with the face in the mist, breathed out, and closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply, and felt a change.

And then in an instant, he saw- everything. All of what Samael said suddenly flashed into Xander’s mind, and in an instant he knew what the plan was for the night. He looked over his shoulder, out into the night, sensing the energy of the wife battering husband three miles over the hill.

Xander announced himself to the night by emitting a blood-curdling howl from the wolf’s diaphragm.

Samael sat up further in Xander’s body, reached out for a cigarette and lit up. You’ll have the ability to take human form, temporarily. You will see their sins in your minds eye. It is your sole discretion on how to create a fitting punishment.

Xander shot Samael a crooked smile before leaping over the railing and out into the night.

“See you tomorrow, partner.” Samael breathed in deep, savoring the smell of the pine trees mixed with the distant scent of a skunk.

“In the Wake of the Eye of Harmony”-Friday Flash Fics, Friday March 22nd, 2019.

For this week’s Friday Flash Fics I couldn’t get the notion of time travel out of my mind, especially since I’m much more of a guy of the future than the time period this suggests. More specifically, I kept thinking about how a certain traveling doctor or his kin, could find themselves here.

In the Wake of the Eye of Harmony

“Firstly, allow my to apologize for having to show you in this manner, but I do sort of need a witness and as my nearest and dearest friend and lover, you fit the bill, so to speak! And if I hadn’t had the forethought to incapacitate you, which I did and of course you now are, you would have had me committed in an instant once I tell you all there is I need to tell and show you!

Yes you, dear Reginald! Even paralyzed and doubled over with drool down your coat I find you most handsome and look back on our years together with a lustful grin! Ah, human sexuality, eh? And since we are speaking of you and your human kin out there, I wish you all knew just how lucky you really are, and for so many reasons! Lucky, for when you go through your lives and die, then it’s- pfft!  Off you go and on to enjoy whatever dithers around for you in your afterlife! Then when you decide to come back to earth and do more of whatever it is your soul decides…. there it is!  Complete and full separation of you from your former selves. Yes, there have been catastrophic bleed through situations over the years, people gone stark raving mad at having the knowledge of too many lifetimes, trying to be sorted by a mere human mind and intellect.  Oh don’t go shaking your head at me! All of that was neither my design, nor my fault! Heavens I ‘m not even from Earth!

Now where was I- ah yes! Puny human intellect, can’t process more than one life at a time. I am currently able to access various bits and pieces of information from all six of my predecessors. Hmm? Whats that? I’m not hoohmhim?  Human?  Right you are Reginald! I am not a human! I am what is referred to as a Time Lord, though even this bit has been foggy recall for me as well.  My entire home world of Gallifrey was destroyed, sort of.  An inter-dimensional race of invisible beings disrupted the energetic balance of a very powerful black hole that we named The Eye of Harmony. Although instead of destroying Gallifrey, it exploded and then the bits of our city themselves imploded and into the layers of space-time,  seeding themselves energetically, throughout the various time-threads of the universe! Countless species, countless permutations….  I myself was not on the home world when it was imploded and since then I’ve been flitting about, trying to garner enough bits so I can travel again through time to try and find more of my own kind.What are you trying to say? Whu did uh bloouhee uh num  uh blkock nole?
  Oh! Why did we bloody-hell go ahead and give a name to a Black Hole?  AH! Well, we’re the buggers who created it! Yes indeed! You see in order to power our home world of Gallifrey- and all of our various time travel technologies-we harnessed energy from the event horizon of the Eye Of Harmony, which is how I got to this time frame in London to begin with! Feeling great in 1898?  Hardly! I can’t say I cared too much for it really, living this far back. Soooo much repression, my goodness! Don’t get me wrong I’m wild about Oscar but let’s just say- universally- no other race is as hung up on binary relationships as this planet and THIS time frame!

What, more about me? Oh, well I did accidentally trap myself in this time frame, going through life time after life time and time and time again until I could gather enough pieces from my home world to rebuild my own strength. It’s hard to explain but do you recall that strange man who helped me unlock the energy centers of my palms? Yes? You’re nodding so I’ll assume this is yes. Well, that was done so that I can literally “feel out” the bits and parts of my home world if I pass by them. Oh pish posh! Why the long face? The life of a Time Lord isn’t so bad! Granted, I did have to hide out on Earth longer than I expected since in far too many time frames that I visited the Daleks have taken over worlds and even a galaxy or two, searching for and trying to destroy my brother, the doctor!


Yes, Silly! I have a brother. Here he is known simply as  ‘Doctor Who.’ Oh no, that is certainly not his real name! His real name is so long no one could never get the pacing just right so ‘Dr’ of Drarvinciawhoernito and the end part of it ‘who’ -stuck.


I have a bit more to say, but I do need to make sure I don’t miss my next beam out of here, which is why you and I are pissed and slumped along a road that’s recently been changed over from gas to electricity. Oh Reggie, it pains me to have incapacitated you in this manner!  What is that you’re tying to say? Woo? Wondr? You’re pointing to me- you want to know more about me? I have full memory of each and every former life that I’ve had up until now, its kind of how Time Lords are able to go about space and fix things here and there.

I won’t even bother to mention the notion that this tiny little spec of a universe is much more like a computer program than any true biological or natural formation. If I were to even attempt to mention to you the concept that this universe, 27.4 billion light years in diameter, is like a computer program rebooting again and again to shake error codes, you’d think I’m stark raving mad! Your problem, you see, is time. Instead of removing it from the importance of the equation, your kind enslaves itself with it, rather than allowing it to flow in and around you.


My problem? Well, at first it was that I couldn’t remember anything. And then when I’d sense a part of my world and I could get a piece and touch it- I’d gain more information in an instant, like a download. See the thing is some major parts- like teleportation beams, for example- move in and around physical space. But when you know where one is going to be… it  just requires a little planning and alot of patience. Took me three lifetimes right here in this time frame to find one, and now that I have, its time for me-to go! And thank you, Reg. You were by far, the sexiest of all the men I’ve had the pleasure to wait through time with.”

Irving plants a perfect kiss on the smiling face of Reginald Pallispar, when Irving’s palms suddenly start tingling. Beneath his feet he sees a fog rolling into their location.
Irving walks over to the curb, placing his right palm face down over an ornate circle at the side on the road, twelve inches in diameter. His palm flashes with a brilliant white light and as he raises his arm he pulls a lamp post out of the circle, upward.  Once it gains enough momentum, Irving looks over his shoulder, regards his lover with a tug on the front of his hat, and places his left hand on the orb in his pocket that has already started levitating.

“Take me to the Tardis,” he says to himself in his own mind, as he feels his own molecules gather inside the lamp post.


Reginald could barely see this with all the fog, but as soon as Irving disappeared in a flash, whatever hold Irving had on him vanished as well. Reginald ran over just in time to see the lamppost dimming, lowering itself back down into the side of the road, it’s circular pattern morphing into rectangular cobblestones. 

Even in sunny weather, the fog has never lifted.

“Donnie In Vaan”- Friday Flash Fics-Friday, March 15th, 2019.

Time again for Friday Flash Fics where we all come up with something based on a posted image. This image reminded me of how boyish a man’s face can look and brought forth a few characters from “Left of Center Fugue”, back in January 2018. In that story Vaan, a model-turned artist found a creative way to inform his new lover that he is a rather unique man in many ways! If you haven’t read that one first, this might seem odd. If you so desire, that one can be found here: Left of Center Fugue.

(reading further will spoil the former story, alert! )

So- in this one Vaan has started to work with his first and youngest alter, Donnie, so he can express his own self and the rest of that is here! Enjoy.

Donnie in Vaan

As Vaan and Tristan walked through the gallery space, Tristan was amazed: There were seven long corridors, all in reflective black tile that, at the end of, had an large 16 x 20 slide image surrounded by mirrors on the walls, ceilings and floors to create a kaleidoscope effect.

Vaan’s MFA of his charcoal self-portraits at NYU set a new record. Never before had an artist’s work so intensely been sought after before the artist had even formally graduated.

To his word, Vaan wanted to allow all of the other alters that he shared space with inside himself the outlet to show parts of themselves as well, through whatever medium they felt most drawn to. Donnie chose photography.

“I would wait until I was sure no one was looking, so they couldn’t see my special knot in the wood- the one that I imagined made the tree trunk open in the back, revealing a set of stairs. I had to make sure they weren’t going to come out and find me, I couldn’t stay in the room with Vaan and the man any more.”

The voice coming out from behind the image was of a little boy. It was the voice of Donnie, one of Vaan’s earliest and most vulnerable alters that his mind created in the wake of searing, familial abuse.

“Once up inside, I pretended that the branches were like Wonder Woman’s invisible jet cuz when the pink petals were all around no one could see me!”

There was a curious emotional juxtapositioning of an adult male body in different boyish poses, whilst hearing Donnie’s voice- shrill and cracking with impish charm- explaining why he was doing what we was doing, etc.. These were Donnie’s images, after all.

True, they were created through a collaboration of Vaan and Donnie, but Donnie created the content. Some of the images were of Donnie’s boyhood escapes; the places he’d go and things he’d do to fully escape while Vaan and Navan received the actual physical parts of the abuse. Donnie running through a field with an antique rug, pretending he’s on a magic carpet ride. Donnie curling up with the next door neighbor’s dogs, pretending he was a member of their clan. Donnie creeping to the tippie top of the oak tree to pretend he was the master of the bird clan who lived in the nests there.

The images were all shot with the adult body Vaan has, but showing Donnie the alter, who always stayed a little boy and would be that way for as long as he was expressed through Vaan.

“These slides are amazing, Tristan!” Vaan grazed his finger along his lover’s as they did their final walk thru hand in hand.

“You composed and did all the shooting, my man! I just helped with processing.”

It was their final walk through after they got all the installed pieces hung, and checking to make sure all of the accompanied soundtracks functioned as they were designed to.

“Actually Donnie came up with the images, we just figured out together how to compose the shots. And it was his own idea to add the voiceovers.”

“I really like how my voice sounds! I think the speakers make it sound deeper!” Donnie chimed in the middle of their conversation. It used to slightly unnerve Tristan how at any moment they could switch. By now he’s gotten used to a wide array of personalities coming forth at various times.

“Ya did really great, kid! Ya sound tougha dan me!” Navan answered back before Vaan came forth once again.

“None of this would have happened without you, Tristan. If on that day that I showed you my artwork – if you’d have laughed or ran away or called me crazy…. I would have stuffed them all back down and dealt with it all internally again. I can’t ever thank you enough.”

“Well, I have to say I have maybe even surprised myself, but you know, Vaan…. we do not get to choose who we fall in love with. And so, I knew this early on. I knew you had somezing big inside, I did not know just HOW big, but I was falling for you and told myself I would accept it, whatever it will be. And you loving me back- i cannot thank you enough!”.

“Badly in Love”, Friday Flash Fics, Friday February 15th, 2019.

This week I took one look at the pic and went, “Awww.” Then I blinked, and a small and grumpy part of me went “hmph!”. At first glance this reads as a fairly cut and dry guy on guy romance thing. After zooming in ( waaay in) to analyze their body language further I decided the fellow with the glasses wasn’t giving in so easily to something, hence the fist on the cement railing, and lack of embrace. I also decided the taller chap would be rather wasted, and so… enjoy!

Badly in Love

“Lawrence and Reginald, I now acknowledge your two souls- joined!” 

Everyone clapped and wiped their tears as the french doors opened onto a rear patio of the Mutter Museum where champagne was already being poured. Don’t get me wrong, of course I was happy that Larry found another guy after Alfonso died. Reggie fits in perfect with our merry band of hippies and weirdos. I’m the one who didn’t feel like I ‘fit’ anymore. My social anxiety was kicking in so I made a bee-line to the bar on the second floor veranda, for the third time. 

                                                                     ***

“Well, well well…”  I recognized Olliander’s deep vocal timbre instantly and could smell his signature combination of patchouli and Burberry mixed with his own sweat.

“Hey Ollie.” I turn around. God damned if he wasn’t just as cute in a suit as he was covered in sand, in a pair of silver mylar disco shorts, and nothing else. He nodded to the bartender and made his way over. 

“I’m surprised you came- knowing how much you love the institution of marriage and all that- thank you.”

 Olliander winked at the bartender and left a gracious tip for his whiskey, neat.  I got another whiff of him-more of whiskey than patchouli this time- which sent flashes of our nights together through my mind. Candles and mirrors and the smell of his tanned skin. One night we didn’t  have any glasses so I drank the whiskey we had out of the small of his back. The best was being lip-locked so that we could breathe during a flash sand-tornado.

“Well, Larry’s an old friend and I couldn’t say no, best man and all that.” 

“Mmm-hmm. I see you still haven’t gotten over your aversion to crowds.” He paused, giving me a visual once-over and smiled. “I thought you might be avoiding me.”

 Olliander reached out to pull lint off my shoulder, the eternal helper. He helped me out during my third and final Burning Man; I had an anxiety attack in a crowded night-time LED poppy-field. Olliander led me out of the maze of lights and we hit it off.  From then on we were inseparable, exploring each other day and night for the remainder of the two weeks. We had fallen in love, badly. Things lasted a few months after we returned to civilization before I ended it abruptly.

I pulled away from Ollie, stepping to the rail to overlook the crowd. All of a sudden I felt my drinks catch up with me.

“If anything I’d figure you’d be avoiding me.” I stumble over my own words. I try not to look him in the eyes, and fail. Oh no, I can’t do this.

“Why on earth would I avoid the last man I fell in love with?”

 Oh God, why did he say that? Shit, fuck, piss, damn. Oh no. I’m drunk now and I can feel it. Again. With him. 

“I wasn’t – very kind, at the end. I know my words hurt. Everything about me leaving the wastefulness of being an artist behind and all of that.”

“Yeah, I  know. I remember all of it. ‘You’re sorry!’  You told me that, ad nauseam.”Ollie bristled, finishing his drink. “We all make our choices, don’t we Liam? So what is all this? Two years and not enough tears piling up inside and irking their way to your surface? So now that you’re ‘ Mr. Wall Street of Philadelphia’, tell me something, honestly: are you finally happy?” 

I can’t speak. I can’t look at him or I’m going to cry. I’ve been so miserable. Putting on the stoic facade, pretending to be happy for Larry when I’m so jealous that I can’t even breathe. Every rung of the ladder on the supposed ‘career of my dreams’, felt brittle.  For the last two years I fought to keep my emotions at bay. I shake my head yes to respond to him and smile, but Olliander sees right through me. 

“You’re a lousy liar, Liam.” He smiles. Mmm. It radiates as much warmth now as it ever did then. I feel something shifting inside of me and I can’t stop it. It’s something with the force of a tsunami or an avalanche and I feel powerless to stop it. 

“Lousy liar Liam… makes a good lover?” I try on a pouty-cute face, wondering if he catches the tense change. Not ‘made’, but ‘makes’.

“What?” His expression is part nonplussed, part indignation.

“Look at you, all disheveled!” I teeter over to him and I un-tie his tie and slowly re-tie it in a double Windsor, careful to keep our bodies slightly apart even though all I want to do is feel his skin under my own. 

“I am, of course, going to take my time doing this, in the hopes that-when I’m done- you’ll press into me and want me to kiss you.”

His bristles soften, slightly. He nods to the bartender. 

“Go on.” 

“I wish I had never pushed you away. I didn’t want to fall in love again, not with you, not with anyone.” Ollie looked downward and nodded. I plodded on.

“I convinced myself that my days of bohemian love and adventure were over. I was sick of falling in love and getting hurt. I was scared, and I was wrong.” 

This was the most honest I’ve  managed to be and my hands were shaking from it, tie and all. 

“Go on.” 

“I’ve been so unhappy, because I was wrong, dead wrong.” I was suddenly aware I had just said the word ‘wrong’ three or four times but my intoxicated mind lost count. I had more than finished with his tie, and just tucked it back into his vest. Ollie hasn’t budged even a fraction of an inch towards me. At all. 

The bartender brought over Ollie’s drink. 

“Go on,” Ollie whispered, breathless, his eyes nearly closed.

I had no idea what he meant by this, and I had nothing left to say.The bartender looked at Ollie and then at me, handed me Ollie’s drink and returned to his bar. I was confused, not sure about what signals I was getting or not getting. Must have been the booze, but all of my bravado had just run out of momentum. It felt akin to finding myself standing on a train platform with a ticket in hand, watching the train leave and perplexed as to why I didn’t get on. 

Olliander cracks his eyes open, sighs, and grabs his drink out of my hand, chuckling. 

“Since you just missed your first window of opportunity with me, I’m going to offer another.” Ollie shot his whiskey back and handed me the glass.

 “Let’s find somewhere we can drink whiskey- without the glasses.”


“Flicker”-Friday Flash Fics-Friday, February 8th, 2019.

Hey gang, I’m not out of the woods yet but felt some kind of way about this young man so… out this came.



Flicker

“C’mon! It’s cold!” Shane was shivering after taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“Just… a.. few …  more….shots.”  

  Ok, I felt a little bad about asking my boyfriend to do this. Emphasis on little. My, God he’s so adorable. Ok, he’s more adorable when he’s not smoking, but being that I also used to smoke I can’t really pick on him too much. At least not yet. It’s only been three months and I’m still not able to fully believe it. 

“Lars! Seriously, I don’t have any feelings left in my toes.” 

“How did you ever survive playing football outside? It isn’t even November yet! Now dip your shrugging shoulders forward, like you’ve been wounded.”

“Someone’s going to be wounded if I don’t get down from here soon!” He took a drag of his cigarette. “Did you really convince Kria to pose naked?” 

“Kyria, not Kria and, yes! She was honored and accommodating.” I didn’t tell him she was also a tad tipsy, hell we all were. 

“In a trash bag? In the snow?” 

“See? You could have had it alot worse, Shane!”

I snapped the camera at him until I heard the shutter click. “You…” I continued to the next shutter click.  “…are too adorable for words. And you-”  one more shutter-click, “-have way too many clothes on! ” I winked and hummed while doing a stand-in-place strip tease motion.  “Don’t even think about it!” He smiled, took another drag, blew me a kiss, and then shooed me away with the same hand. 

A strange tailwind suddenly picked up, and it spun the most perfect circle of leaves and dust and some of the feathers out of his wings, as I squeezed out another click from my camera.

• • •

Just then I had a flashback to last year, Shane and I were barely friends. He was on the football team, and don’t bother asking me what his position was because I have absolutely no idea. We sort of became friends in art class, the safe haven for all gays and lesbians in the era of pre-GSA’s, pre-pronouns, pre-everything.  But really, we first met in gym class.

Some former stoner friends of mine were bullying me, calling me fag and stuff. It was just another day of hell in high school for me, but for some reason it really seemed to get under Shane’s skin. He told them to screw off and once even tried to get the gym teacher involved. I figured he was just some goody two-shoes who had to stand up for intolerance, blah blah. Whatever. 

Later that day I noticed him looking at me in art class and figured he was just another awe-struck jocko who wanted to see how I could apply eyeliner while keeping my mouth closed. 

“Hey!” Shane said. With all of my goth garb on I couldn’t see that he was looking at me, not past me like they usually do. 

“Hey Lars, hey!” 

To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. 

 “What?”

“Why do you let those guys in gym ride you, man?”

 I put my eyeliner stick and ‘Die-Fuck-Die’ mirror down before responding. What the hell was this all about anyway? I didn’t know what one of the cutest football players in high school wanted from me, but I knew better than to trust him. He was straight and the only thing they ever wanted from guys like me was to get my defenses down to make their attacks go easier. I arched my back and folded my hands over my chest, just in case I needed to do a quick block. 

 “They used to be my friends. Ignoring them is better than getting the shit kicked out of me. Why do you care?” 

I said this last bit with enough attitude and force that made the entire art room take notice. Everyone was staring at us. Staring at him. His face turned beet red. 

“I -uh..I didn’t say that I cared.” He looked hurt and betrayed. I blew him a kiss and shooed him away. 

• • •

“Lars! Wake up, man! Snap out of it!” 

I woke with Shane straddling either side of my chest, his face full of worry and his wings askew. 

“Why do you look so panic stricken?” He really looked like he was ready to bawl any second. Maybe it had to do something with why I was lying on the ground. I took a deep breath and could feel his Mr. Happy graze my rib cage, which only made me smile deeper, but it made Shane angry. 

“Did you do this on purpose?” Shane jumped to his feet and I put out a hand to have him help me to a seated position.  

“Do what?” 

“Lars- you were snapping a picture of me, and then you got all weird looking- and this funnel of air came out from you. It made the leaves and feathers float around in a circle. I thought it was kinda weird and then your image started flickering- i thought it was just the dust getting in the way but-then you were gone! You just- disappeared! By the time I ran across the courtyard, you were here!” 

He knelt down and pulled me in close, and if I couldn’t tell by his sniffling that he was crying, I’d have known by the wetness dripping down the nape of my neck. Wow, I guess he really cares a whole lot after all.

The flickering wasn’t a good sign, though. I’d had feelings of not being in reality before when I’d seen other visions. But these happened so spuratically over the years and I was almost always alone. 

Still, I felt guilty that I hadn’t shared this part of myself yet. Can you blame me, really? I was already enough of a goth-punk weirdo. Why advertise even more crazy stuff? 

I fought the urge to tell Shane and left all of it buried deep inside where it could stay forever, as far as I was concerned. 

“Lars are you alright?” 

I smiled, nodded and gave him a kiss. 

Yes. Everything in my world was alright, finally. And alright was how I was going to make it all stay. For as long as I could.

A Reprieve in Reverse-Friday Flash Fics-Friday, November 9th, 2018.

After an unintentional hiatus (and a magnificent ‘reset’ during a brief vacation) it’s time for more flash fics!

Every week the administrator posts a picture for the participants who must utilize it to craft their Flash Fiction piece, which is generally around a thousand words. So thankful the “700 word limit” isn’t strictly enforced! 45361438_10158004443851110_741707570317623296_n

 

REPRIEVE IN REVERSE 

It was two days later, after all the fire and rescue and police had left that I was allowed to walk through the barn. Everything perished, including my own mother who tried to fight the flames, and lost.

Shortly after I was carted away and charged with her homicide. After five years in juvie and now, seventeen years later, I am determined to end the night terrors that have taunted me.

 

“What do you remember about that night?”, Dr. Reynolds asked.

I felt better with Jamison by my side, knowing he was only a foot away on a chair in her office.

This part of my past that plagued my nights, visiting me with guilt and shame that never quite felt right.

 

“You’re a lousy, good for nothing son! You make your mother do everything around here! You never finished mowing the lawn around the barn! You’re a dumb pipe-dreamer just like your father!

PACK YOUR BAGS AND GET OUT OF HERE!”

 

“Shaun, who is that? Who is saying that?” Dr. Reynolds asked.

“Him. Tom. The man she married after my dad died.”

The man she married less than a year after my dad died.

 

“Shaun, what do you see now?”

 

I tried to stay with the images, fighting off my hatred of him. The sting of his spittle as it soared past his lit cigar and into my face. Yelling. He was always yelling and I was always looking to my mother, searching for any kind of support. Anything!v She knew it was a sore spot for all of us; mostly she just turned her head.

Tom was a nefarious breeder of animals, employing all the wrong methodologies for the wrong reasons, destroying bloodlines for money. I never trusted him, but he saved the farm from the brink of bankruptcy that my father’s bleeding heart led it to. I got back to the images behind my eyes, finally.

 

“I see myself, I’m young, like eight or ten, and he’s yelling at me. I pack my clothes into a suitcase and start down the path for the main road. I’m crying and I don’t know why I am being kicked off the farm.”

 

“What else?” Dr. Reynolds pushed more, ever so gently.  In a fast-forward whirl I am carted away and blamed for it all. How did I get through court and my plea bargain- wait, my lawyer’s plea bargain. I don’t remember any of the court dates or the day I agreed to plea guilty to a crime I didn’t commit. 

“And that’s it! Then the next thing I remember it’s days later, and they’ve picked me up at the bus station in town. Tom told them all that I set fire to the barn when I left!”

 

“Did you?”

“I DON’T REMEMBER!” Tears stream down my face.

“Look maybe this is too much right now.” Jamison’s hand was on the back of my neck, calming my nerves. I kept my

eyes closed, determined.

“No! I am here, I need to figure this out!”

He removed his hand, kissed me on the back of my head as Dr. Reynolds changed her approach.

“Go back to the path, to the point when you supposedly set the fire. What do you feel? Can you smell anything?”

 

I drew a deep breath in.

“He just got done yelling at me. I feel disgusted as I brush his spit off my face. I smell his cigar smoke. It’s cold,

dusk has almost settled and I was worried my sweater wouldn’t keep me warm enough.”

 

My senses took over, and I stopped talking. I found myself suddenly back there, on that path. Cold. Shivering, but it was daytime.

Things didn’t make sense…  I never remembered turning around before, but that smell… and the sound-

 

Woosh!  

 

The fire that engulfed the barn radiated against my back. Things were being recalled in reverse. The fire reduced in volume, as I felt myself inching back up the path. I hear him snicker, and was filled with a terrible sense of dread.

I turned around in time to see Tom, toss his cigar into the barn against a wafting smell of kerosene.

 

Woosh!

 

When I came to, Jamison was holding me.

 

“Are you alright? Shaun! This is Dr. Reynolds… you’ll be back here in three, two, one!”

 

“You alright, Shaunie?” Jamison said, holding me close.

“I got my reprieve,”  I muttered, but with more hope than I ever felt before.

I wanted to tell Jamison that these were happy tears, and I can understand

The confusion, looking as I did. All that came out were seven little words:   

“I never killed my mom. He did.”

Meet You (in the)Middle/Death of the Auto-Pilot -Friday Flash Fics-Friday, September 22nd, 2018.

Gosh, wow… I’m really bucking for the Late-Late award again. For Friday Flash Fics I had this all fleshed out in my mind, and then my work life took over. I really liked this for so many reasons and it motivated me to explore this using Deaf characters and then it all came into line.
    if you are not familiar with this, the administrator posts a weekly pic and we have a week to come up with a Flash Fiction piece motivated and including the posted image.
Over this week there was a curious post by my friend Phillip Kimball that I mostly agreed with but picked apart a few grand assumptions on love. This leaked over into how I wanted to show this relationship of two men who are still in love without the “auto pilot”. Enjoy!
41755189_10157869244561110_3492224976231071744_n

Meet You (in the) Middle/Death of the Auto-Pilot

Bruce was on set when it came this year, the usual unique flower bundle with the mysterious card. He checked his watch, it was nearly 3:30pm and this was day four of shooting for a local health insurance company. He signed to his light tech.

“TODAY? FINISH! OFF-ON, PLEASE.”

After the main lights were toggled off and on to get the attention of his mostly Deaf-cast, he let them know most of what they shot yesterday was the tough stuff, today’s shots were just extra to cover their ass.

“YOU? SKILLED ACTORS – CHA! YOU ALL WORK, WORK, WORK- CONTINUE ALL-DAY-INTO NIGHT, YESTERDAY. TODAY?  FINISH EARLY ! “

Cheers and whistles were heard with the visual flutter of Deaf applause, and then it arrived. Actually, Bruce smelled it before he saw it, a huge bouquet of aqua-marine colored Freesias; their sickly sweet scent quickly filled the back stage set.

“Thank You!,” he signed and spoke to the delivery person before putting the flowers down and opening the card.

•  •  •

“YOU-and-I .. TOGETHER ALL THIS TIME? FOURTEEN YEARS!?” Johnny stared into Bruce’s deep brown eyes over their anniversary dinner. Bruce nodded.

“KNOW! KNOW! NEVER THOUGHT I’D FIND SOUL MATE, DEAF- SAME!” Bruce beamed, grabbing his lover’s hand.

They met on the set while filming a few episodes of a new dramatic series that takes place in Los Angeles. They were both immediately smitten, but held off for a five months, as they knew Johnny’s character was going to be murdered in a straight love triangle on the show. Johnny followed Bruce back east during a break from work and they’ve been together ever since.

“WHAT?” Bruce asked as Johnny tried to hide the glint in his eye, shaking his head back and forth.

“TELL ME, NOW!” Bruce laughed, making Johnny’s devilish grin worse.

“TWO THINGS; FIRST- REMEMBER BEFORE YOU-AND-I DISCUSS FALL-IN-LOVE KEEP ALIVE, HOW? NO MORE AUTOMATIC-PLANE! ROLL-UP SLEEVES – WORK! REMEMBER?”

Bruce recalled how they became like gay automatons, afraid to open the relationship, and neither really sharing each others fears about it lasting. The lack of open communication nearly ended it at the ninth year. Then they agreed never to that again, and vowed to always speak their minds.

Bruce shook his head and signed “YES. I REMEMBER”

“ME SUGGEST ROMANTIC fs) S-C-A-V-E-N-G-E-R    H-U-N-T.  NEXT YEAR WE CAN DO. I LEAVE (FS) C-L-U-E-S.  YOU FIND ME – WE MAKE LOVE.  AGREE?”

Bruce shook his head back and forth in pleasant disbelief. He Wiggled his fingers on an anchored thumb at his chest to sign how cool he thought the idea was.

“AGREE!” Bruce signed. “AND… SECOND- WHAT?” Bruce prodded for more.

“AND SECOND…. YOU-AND-I  FEW YEARS AGO CHAT.  MAYBE MIND OPEN, (fs) P-O-L-Y.  PEOPLE-JOIN YOU-AND-I? ” Johnny asked.

Bruce nodded quickly. “YES! MIND OPEN, STILL! BUT MUST KNOW SIGN – DON’T CARE HEARING-DEAF  DON’T MATTER. BUT- ME NOT TEACHING ADULT CHILD SIGN.  AGREE?

Johnny leaned in and agreed with a kiss that drew more attention than they knew at dinner that night.

•  •  •

“HAPPY EIGHTEEN ANNY, MY LOVE!

THIS YEAR HUNT ?

YOU CAN FIND ME

ON THE STAGE OF THE RUNT.

NO MATTER WHAT YOU THINK

IT SMELLS LIKE THE KEY TO FIND ME.

IF YOU MAKE ME WAIT ALL NIGHT,

I’LL BE HERE, BLUE> BOUND TO FIND ME

BEHIND THE CURTAIN OF UTOPIA.

THERE YOU FIND ME

AND THE THRILL OF CHASE.

Big Love, Johnny “

Bruce found a tiny pack of sweet tart candies in the bottom of the envelope after he read the card. He sat down for a moment as he got another nostril full of that sickeningly sweet odor. Why he send me awful flowers? Bruce pondered.  He know Freesia, I hate! Smell too sweet… smells like Sweet tart candy he know  I hate… Too sweet! Bruce knew there was a reason why, and if he was going to find his anniversary present he was going to have to put the pieces together. Something about the sweetness, and that deep blue color. THATS IT !

Bruce started sneezing. His hearing assistant signed to him as he started for the door.

“FLOWERS, DO-DO?”

“THROW OUT!” Bruce said, laughing, grimacing, and saying out loud. “SWEET LIKE CANDY!” He pinched his nose shut and yelped again.  “SHWEET LIKE CANDY!”

•  •  •

The last night of summer was threatening to end within the hour. A golden orange beam of light cast itself low across the dirt yard and onto the front of the tiny auto parts store in North Philadelphia. The one that was transformed last year for the Fringe Festival in which Bruce directed a show called “Sweet Like Candy .” The space was kept dilapidated on the outside while the inside was transformed into a small theater. The stage of the runt. Bruce noticed how the low light cast a sharp shadow from the remaining letters “Utopia” down towards the entrance. Ha-ha!  My God he’s so creative.

As Bruce approached the front of the theater, he saw the aqua-marine blue vestibule curtain whipping in the wind that matched the color of the Freesias. He also thought he felt a vibration coming from inside. He left his hearing aids in the car, and he placed a hand on the interior wall as he passed the threshold, locking the door behind him.

He felt a deep thumping bass, and tried to place the music. Johnny was, culturally and profoundly Deaf, while Bruce could pick up some music with his hearing aids and did enjoy some music from time to time. Johnny hated the idea since he had zero access to it and it almost became a bone of contention. Almost.

As Bruce walked down the center aisle, the ultramarine blue curtains hiding the stage suddenly parted. A large gold mirror angled down from upstage revealed a tanned, blue eyed Johnny, bound on a bed center stage with dark blue ropes and a dark blue blindfold. Flanking either side were two wrought iron half ovals of lit church pillar candles, though the overhead stage lights took care of lighting everything well enough. Johnny had his favorite Andrew Christian “Almost nothing” cornflower blue underwear on.

As he appraoched, Johnny started writhing, biting his lips. He winked at Bruce through his blindfold. Happy Anniversary! Johnny mouthed before Bruce planted a delicate kiss. You like? Johnny mouthed again as Bruce pulled the blindfold up a smidge as he ran the back of his hand lightly over a plume of hair on Johnny’s chest.

“I DO LIKE!” Bruce started taking off his shirt, savoring the contact of his lover’s skin. Ready to tug at Johnny’s underwear with his teeth, Bruce signs.

“BUT ! ONE THING- STRANGE! UP-TILL-NOW  MUSIC-NONE! MUSIC? FOR-FOR?

For the thrill of chase!  Johnny mouthed and laughed, licking his lips in a begging way for more attention. Bruce obliged, licking and kissing and teasing as he knew Johnny loved.

He signed, “SILLY JOHNNY-BOY! ME ARRIVE? FINISH! CHASE DONE!

Really? Johnny mouthed. Chase done?  Then with his voice he shouted- “ARE YOU DONE?”

The overhead lights faded to black, the orange glow of the candles illuminating them both.

“WHO’S THERE?” Bruce yelled over his left shoulder, shocked. Suddenly he felt breath on his neck, and the warmth of a naked body pressing up against him out of the darkness, and then felt a hand on his right shoulder.

“HELLO,” the man signed, mouth shut to show he is adept at pure ASL.

 “ME?  NAME (fs) C-H-A-S-E. “

Bruce’ eyes traveled down Chase’s naked body, past his half erection back up to his eyes.

“YOU HEARING?” Bruce asked, running a hand up Chase’s calf. Chase nodded yes, their eye gaze never losing contact.

“ME… YOU LIKE?” Chase asked. Bruce nodded yes. Chase walked by Johnny’s bound body and lowered the blindfold, completely covering Johnny’s eyes. Bruce and Chase had their eyes still locked on each other, as Chase takes a swipe with his tongue along Johnny’s armpit. He walks down to Johnny’s feet, caressing his feet and thighs and calves.

“YOU OK? THREE-OF-US? NOW?” Chase signed.

Bruce nodded yes before licking Johnny’s other armpit.                                                       Chase winked and signed,

“MEET YOU MIDDLE!”