tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69881473306696924152024-03-04T21:36:20.931-08:00The Emery BoardEmeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-91904852838099782222019-04-14T19:34:00.001-07:002019-04-14T19:34:19.460-07:00Ahem. Obviously I haven't been here in five years... and I have no excuse. I do have a writing page on Facebook that I update a bit more often, cough cough, https://www.facebook.com/EmeryWrites/ and you're welcome to come over there. Try not to get too excited; I'm really boring in real life. Well people tell me I'm funny but quite a few times it's when I'm not even trying, so I dunno, man....<br />
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Now: if you give me a theme I can give you a story in five hours or less. That's about it; the extent of my talents. And as a transman who transitioned late in life, I don't even have the support of my grown kids; I don't think they like me much either. Since I write about trans, gay, lesbian and recovery, that doesn't resonate with them. I think you have to have suffered to find the hope and humor in my writing to be interesting and helpful. I hope so anyway, cuz that's all I got to offer.<br />
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Most of my Ebooks are with JMS and I'm very grateful to them for making it as easy as possible. Give it a try yourself; you've thought about writing haven't you? Sure you have. I also have by now, uh, six novels and three books of short stories, or something like that, in paper. And my autobiography has been sailing around to publishers for almost exactly a year now; with no success or interest whatsoever. I doubt it's that boring, though there's no sex in it to 'sell!' it. And MTFs with issues are all the rage.<br />
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<br />Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-30768836331015916672014-05-01T10:28:00.000-07:002014-05-01T10:28:35.889-07:00FISH AND CROCODILES AND SHARKSI put the word fish in the title to lure people in. Snicker. A friend posted that picture of a wheelchair rolling down a hill into a crocodile; her daughter commented, 'Hey Mom, can we try this?' hence the crocodile and my morning laugh out loud and scare the neighbors. Sharks? No reason, why? Other than I've seen the fins just offshore on my walks. I can walk along the beach halfway to the library. The library is almost to Starbucks. Starbucks has cookies.<br />
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I put a coffee shop and cookie into one of my stories. I don't know what to call the cookie to make it sound embarrassing when they call it out to the 'hero', my usual 17'ish gay boy. Oh god, I just realized what the cookies currently at my favorite coffee shop, could - resemble. To a gay boy.<br />
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Yesterday I conquered the art of procrastination. I am now your master. I got so much other stuff done, it's amazing. <br />
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Oh, fish! I'm deleting my thousands of bad fish pictures. I've only been snorkeling about a year and a half; and it stills scares me, but I do it. Having a camera along distracts me; having digital means shoot at anything that holds still long enough. I've seen three octopi, one ray, many turtles, eels, and of course, fish. My favorite place to go, 'Dumps', is a marine preserve.<br />
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I am a Canon freak but am intrigued by the GoPro cameras. Any ideas?Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-44766158352411577352014-04-30T19:30:00.000-07:002014-04-30T19:30:02.481-07:00Super HumanThe title does not refer to me. Yesterday I went snorkeling. This is sometimes awesome, often frightening, and somewhat generally way the hell out of my comfort zone, which is something you're supposed to do periodically. It's good for you! So is cabbage but I hate that too.<br />
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Today I saw the dermatologist. He said I'm perfect. My barista said the only person who ever said he was perfect was his mother. I wisely said nothing, though I tried. Saved by the next customer, not by any common sense I may or may not have.<br />
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I am procrastinating. You can help me do this by never visiting this page. There were 22 views last month and before that over 300. Apparently this month I have turned into chopped liver. Thanks so much.<br />
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I have three short stories I intend to offer to two different online epublishers. The first time I did this they snapped it up. This put terror in my heart and paralysis in my motivation. This is backwards.<br />
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Sunday we went on the Trilogy's Blue'Aina, which is a boat trip to a reef we snorkel or dive at and clean up. We also get breakfast and lunch and it's a reasonable charge, plus the profits go to a different nonprofit each time. It's awesome. I admitted to one of the crew that I do it but I'm still somewhat scared every time. While I was out in the water, I happened to come up near him, where he was sitting on a surfboard watching, and I dunno, I guess if you ever felt really protected and taken care of, that would express how I felt. Besides the fact that I probably look like a frog fish when I'm in snorkel gear, but that's beside the point.Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-53425773730608775912014-04-30T19:16:00.000-07:002014-04-30T19:16:48.325-07:00GAHIt's no secret that we moved five or so years ago from a big house on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington State to a 640 square foot condo on Maui, 300 feet from the ocean. Yes, there are downsides as well as pluses and right now one of the noisy ones is approaching our door for the third time today; yard boy with a weed-blower. One which is belching exhaust befitting a drag race between the two worst-kept old cars you could find, driven by betel-nut chewing drunks. He's on his hands and knees with this device.<br />
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It's no secret either that I can't concentrate at the best of times. Right now I'm doing this and I'll tell you why* in a minute (if I remember), adding music to my IPod which deleted itself last week, doing some online shopping, looking to see if my two current favorite bands (The Protomen and the Raveonettes) have new music out (no, dammit) and backing up files AND weeding photos AND procrastinating uploading stories to several hopeful markets. I mean I'm hopeful.<br />
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Fellow writer (but probably better and certainly more computer savvy and professional) Andrew Jericho is sponsoring me on his page as of tomorrow, for which I'm very grateful. See here*: <a href="http://akkinley.com/author-feature-emery-c-walters/?preview=1&_ppp=84354d76db">http://akkinley.com/author-feature-emery-c-walters/?preview=1&_ppp=84354d76db</a><br />
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I barely know how to update this page. Or get to my gmail, however, if you want to talk to me or tell me how terrific I am, you can find me on Facebook too. I have no secrets and I'm friendly, most of the time.<br />
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Yesterday there was a turtle on the beach, resting. Of course nobody knew why it was there and at least six different people called other different people to let the 'pros' know. They already knew so were not returning calls so .... well it got complicated. Three other turtles were hanging around as well. Two of the people I talked to were beach-dwellers (as opposed to 'homeless'), one from Austria and one from the Ukraine 'via Canada'. The turtle - she in this case - had suffered a huge bite where one flipper goes into the body but it is, per the experts, healing well.<br />
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I feel a trip to Starbucks is in my immediate future and I promise to get at least one story sent off today. I may share my 'real' life with the world here and on Facebook (and as little in person as possible, talk about your introvert), but I also need and deserve to share my fictional life as well.<br />
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That said, go do something nice for yourself, because no matter where or when you are along your own path, (insert really important and helpful comment here) - you deserve the best - and you ARE that best. Trust me on that - and trust yourself, too.Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-10043105837509212432014-04-14T11:22:00.000-07:002014-04-14T11:22:53.174-07:00'Normal'?I posted yesterday and it disappeared. Story of my life. Today I'm off to the bookstore where I actually throw books in the dumpster. Isn't that an awful concept? But if they're moldy, mildewed and home to bugs, out they go. It amazes me that on a small island like this, there are always more books, but then, there are also always more cats too. The best part is finding treasures that never seem to show up in the 'real' bookstores, including well written young adult novels. You can tell when one is patronizing or preaching, and when one is educational and open.<br />
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One of our local homeless, 'Shades', has written a screenplay which he hopes to get funding for. In the meantime he's trying to film a scene to put up online. Yesterday he told me, laughing at himself, that as he was being filmed another friend of his came up and loudly announced, "I got food poisoning at Fred's (a local Mexican restaurant) last night." On camera. Shades' idea of going to the beach includes his guitar and a bag of weed, but he's still funny as hell. Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-33628258692676148542014-04-12T23:49:00.001-07:002014-04-14T11:22:53.177-07:00Flash!To clarify last post, Robyn has been honored to be chosen as the volunteer of the year for all the National Marine Whale Sanctuary sites.<br />
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This is my birthday week and I celebrate as long as I can. Today I ordered a shirt for myself. It's on clearance LOL. I also wrote three flash fiction stories - all around 975 words. At least I'm consistent, no? I'll get those organized and submitted this weekend.<br />
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Our side of Maui has been windy and sunny lately, though rain has been a frequent guest, unusually frequent. We may or may not get to go snorkeling tomorrow. Here's something magical for you.<br />
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Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-23375422767727719982014-04-09T14:08:00.002-07:002014-04-09T14:08:44.689-07:00At the risk of sounding like an absentee voter, one who is lost in a forest somewhere, I'd like to welcome me back. Some of my writing has necessitated a website, which I don't got. Some of my latest attempts have been back in the 'It was a dark and stormy night' zone, you know, bad, or at least, bad on purpose. I looked up my presence on line and it is pathetic and scattered. All the books have their own place, webpage or whatever. Me, I'm on LiveJournal but not posting, Facebook and very active there, and at BecHavn Press, individual pages just like on Amazon. This may have to do, because while I can do well the few things I can do, the rest of the enchanted wonderland that is hyperspace is a complete mystery to me. A huh and what the hell is that mystery.<br />
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In the works are: 'A Gay Pirate's Tale' through BecHavn, and 'Ghosties and Girlies' though Amazon's CreateSpace. The books that are already 'out there' are 'Last Year's Leaves', 'Mending Rainbows', 'Cabin Boy', 'Finding Avalon', 'As I Am', and the two short story books of 'Out is In' and 'Books, Dogs and the Sea'. I also have a short story coming out in Ebook form via JMS, in July.<br />
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The weather here on Maui has been windy, and wet. I haven't been in the water snorkeling in a month. I've been doing battle with prescriptions and various body things that shall remain nameless but none the less gang up on me periodically. <br />
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Robyn has been selected for an hour for her massive volunteer work. All I'm doing is two hours a week at the little Friends of the Library book store in a former boys' bathroom out in the cane field. Other than the bugs and mildew, I love it.<br />
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Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-72599370595402064042012-12-21T16:48:00.002-08:002012-12-21T16:48:25.372-08:00An Excerpt from 'Dog Days'<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <em>This is from ashort story called 'Dog Days' which is in my next book (as yet unnamed) of short stories. The hero is in the hospital. His roommate is Sol.This is a semi-X-rated part.</em></span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bright and early, way too early, Sol woke me again
with his annoying ‘Wakey, wakey!’ thing and then when I didn’t respond he was
on top of me again, even though – speaking of ‘trees’ – I had a very impressive
morning wood thing going on and in my dream, well, never mind. I was just glad
– mostly – that it didn’t carry over to Sol’s sitting on my stomach bare assed
naked again, and bouncing up and down. I groaned, highly confused over my mixed
feelings. The jerk was oblivious. Um, wait a minute, he just stopped being
oblivious. I think I’m about to learn something – BRB.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh. My. God. After this I didn’t care what Sol was –
trying – to …<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I think I could get used to this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I wonder if Mrs. White had something to say about
this?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘We’re gonna have a GREAT (big!) day!’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Shut up Mrs. White…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So an hour later that sexy night nurse comes in and
there’s me and Sol sound asleep, all tangled up together In my bed, our ass
bandages hanging half off and Sol snoring away <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>like the happy bitch he is. The nurse came up
beside us and my eyes opened and looked up at him, sleepy and innocent. “I…” he
started out, his face gradually turning red. “I – see – you’re feeling better,”
and he burst out laughing. I didn’t know what he meant, until oh. Yeah, well
you see… And then Sol farted. The nurse left, barely making it out into the
hall, he was bent over so far trying to hold his stomach and silence his mirth,
not that he had a chance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I didn’t know what to think so I thought I’d shove Sol
a good one and get him the hell off me, which I did, and all he did was kiss my
nose and crawl back to his own bed, sighing in loud and semi-faked ecstasy. I
wanted to kill him. And the nurse. And then maybe myself, later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Well, the nurse came back in, told me his name was
Todd and that he’d be our nurse for the day and he was glad to see… he couldn’t
finish. “I have to change your bandages. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The doctor will be in later and just rip them
off again, but oh well. He’s the boss, right? Apparently I wasn’t going to be
killed or thrown in jail or have this put in the newspaper. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You’re in the paper again I see. Good on you! You are
a real hero, you know. Now turn over, hero, so I can look at – your – ooh very
nice.” (Was he supposed to pat my ass that way while ripping off the – HOLY
FUCKING OW! Holy shit! Had I grown hair on my butt?) “Sorry,” he said, not
sounding it. I reached back and pulled the pillow over my head. I tried to fart
but couldn’t. Damn him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He didn’t move for a minute and I got scared. “What?”
I finally asked, my voice so muffled I had to take the pillow off and try to
sit up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m sorry, it’s just that this bite looks bad. I
don’t think you’ll be going home today. Or anywhere. Maybe across the hall
though, if you promise to not take all the cheese Danish. I love those.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh shit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I saw your boyfriend in the parking lot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He’s not my boyfriend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Tell him that. He’s loaded down with food for you and
probably enough for Solomon too. I think he’s cute.” His voice dropped. “But
then, I think this…” here he pinched my butt, “Is cute, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He was
rubbing ointment or something onto my bite. It felt good and awful at the same
time. My dick was getting only the ‘good’ part of the message. I was glad I was
on my stomach, so far.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sit up – gently.” Believe me I was gentle. “Now;” he
held out a little bag to me. “Look in there. See what they are?” Uh, yes. “Do
you want me to show you how to put one on before the next time Sol or someone
like Sol…” NO. “I got you the biggest size, since...” I KNOW, I thought,
flushing bright red, remembering his hand on my dick making me urinate. Good
god. My dick felt no embarrassment, however, only pride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No! Uh, no – thank you – I believe I can figure it
out.” I could feel my face flame with heat. I didn’t want to think about my
dick, it was ready to salute the flag, the cheeky little bastard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Are you sure? There’s a couple dozen in there. Will
that be enough? Do you know where...”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Saved! Lefty came in saying, “Hello, what’s up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh God. Does the whole world know?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>God indeed. Todd stood up, turning to Lefty, saying,
“I don’t think you’ll be taking him home with you today. Let me show you the
bite that might be infected, here on his…” Turning from Todd to me. “Roll over
again sweetheart,” and he winked at me in such a way that Todd could see him,
and then ran his tongue over his lips. I swear to God that bastard was smirking
at me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sol sitting up gingerly,
watching. Todd put the bags of food on the table and came over. As Todd lifted
my gown Sol came over. He was all I could see the way I was lying, and as he
got right by my bed he pulled up his gown and lay his dick right in front of my
face, with his gown draped casually back over it – and my head. Then he leaned
over me, accidentally pushing down. And, sideways. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Now let me take off this old bandage…” Fucking liar! “And
see this lesion and the…” medical terms flew from Todd’s mouth as he caressed
my ass, his other hand lying on my other butt cheek and, er, in between. Every
one of us was breathing hard and I could tell that at least two of us were
hard. Me and Sol, of course. I could feel Todd’s thumb – if it was Todd and if
it was his thumb – Ooookay! Enough! Another voice joined the fray. Well two,
mine in a hesitant whimper along the lines of ‘oooooooooh’ and the doctor who
had just come in (along with, I presume, his horde of retainers.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thank you, Todd, I see you have the patient all ready
for me!” WHAT? I pushed myself upwards, launching pillow, Sol’s gown and dick
and Sol backward, and almost went into orbit. I landed on my knees and felt
stitches rip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a dead silence
as I knelt there oozing blood, a tent in my gown, hyperventilating but gee
whiz, not crying yet, blushing everywhere. Sol started back toward his bed,
muttering; Todd looked up at Sol and said, “Why Salome, how nice you look in
that gown!” Tented gown, not his color, and ‘Salome’? Stage name? Lefty – left.
I heard his guffaws hit as soon as he turned the corner out of the room. I
pretended I ‘did this on purpose’, grabbed the bag of what turned out to be
fresh doughnuts, and turned on my side, facing the window, my bare ass toward
Solly/Salome, and stuffed a cream filled long john in my mouth. Todd left the
room abruptly as I bit down and cream came out of my mouth. As soon as he
joined Lefty in the hall, he started bellowing with laughter too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The bastards. All of them. Cream ran down my chin and
I licked it up with my tongue, daring the doctor and his minions, whom I was
now facing, to say a single word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-16561222534235998682012-10-01T22:06:00.000-07:002012-10-01T22:06:05.358-07:00Having killed two computers since starting this, and just stumbling over finding it again, I feel compelled to update my page for my huge fan base (well, there's me) so you know I'm still alive. Did I start this before emergency surgery two years ago? Can I blame leaving it alone since then on that? No?<br />
<br />
But I have been 'busy'. We live on Maui, so there are beaches and places to explore, with my favorite being the Kanaha pond wetlands where there are not only ponds and birds, but leftover bunkers from WWII, right out there in the middle of basically, nowhere. I love exploring there.<br />
<br />
I've set much of the six books I've written in the past three years in places I've stumbled across, like putting the crashed plane at Baldwin Beach into one of my short stories in 'Out is In', published by Rage Press under my full name, Emery C. Walters, with all my profits going to the Maui AIDS Foundation.<br />
<br />
Although I'm a married parent and grandparent, I'm also a transgender man who was raised female. Of course I'm interested in diversity, human rights and encouraging young people to be themselves as safely as possible.<br />
<br />
What, save some for later? Sure!Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6988147330669692415.post-7294956131277928442011-08-08T20:27:00.001-07:002011-08-08T20:27:39.891-07:00All Relative<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">It wasn’t as if he’d never been sick before; he had. He knew he’d been sick a lot worse, pneumonia that one time, bronchitis another. His appendix had almost burst when he was ten, that had been bad.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">This time though – oh. my. God. At first he’d been afraid he was going to die. Now he was afraid he wasn’t going to die.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">And for God’s sake, this had to be the first time his crush had ever wanted anything to do with him. How in hell could he even close his mouth long enough to kiss the man, let alone put anything in his mouth long enough to – uh – without breathing? He sure as hell couldn’t breathe through his nose, now could he? Even if he could, he’d ruin it by coughing, or worse.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">How attractive. His nose was red, his chest was too tight, his eyes were puffy. If he inhaled he coughed. If he didn’t breathe he coughed. If he sat down he coughed, stood up he coughed, lay down, forget it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">And oh God make me weep, there’s Seth, in front of me, seeing me, his sea-blue eyes piercing mine, seeing me! In all my red and puffy and snot-nosed glory. Oh fuck, am I blowing a snot bubble? God, kill me now!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">At least my nose won’t be the only part of me that’s going to explode. My dick is trying to unzip my pants from the inside. No, Seth, no, oh don’t, please don’t run your tongue over your lips like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh my God. He’s coming in for a landing. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">For God’s sake, move toward him! He can’t see your nose in this light! He can’t – oooooh fuck, he’s – no, Seth, don’t reach for my jeans, no – oh, oh that’s nice. Oooh, wait!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Umphf!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Don’t make me breathe so deeply. This will not go well. Oh – hack. Hack hack hack. Oh fuck. He’s holding me and patting me on the back as if I were a baby! Here I am at the sexiest, most important moment of my life and this god is holding me on his shoulder like a child, burping me, and I’m hawking up phlegm like a snot-nose two year old! My nose and my eyes are running down his back. And my dick, is, oh no, he’s got – how did he get his hand in – oh crap. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">How did I stop coughing long enough to turn my head? Oh god, his neck is delicious! I’m just going to – lick – numpf! That’ll leave a mark! Teeth mark. Tooth mark. Ha ha! Oh my god, does that shiver mean he liked it? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I think my dick just s’ploded. My knees blew out. The only thing holding me up is my teeth. Oh God I need a cigarette.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh wait, I don’t smoke.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Uh oh. There’s more? What’s Seth – Seth, no! Ow! Oh uh, never mind. (Hang on teeth, if he’s gonna hurt me then…oooh!)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“You like to bite, huh?” Came Seth’s delightful, sexy voice, so close to my ear. “How do you like it?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I couldn’t shiver any harder if I had a high fever, which, by the way, I did, along with my cough. I shuddered as his head moved lower, his lips and teeth just touching my neck – I had to let go of his before my neck broke, but that was OK. His hand was still inside my jeans. Where was the – oh, fuck, no. His other hand was sliding down inside the back of my jeans.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Then his teeth found my nipple. I squirmed. His fingers – bubbles did come out of my nose and other orifices, bubbles of joy or something. My dick was so stiff I couldn’t be sure that I’d already come or not. Frankly, it didn’t matter. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I didn’t even notice I was whispering – I was whispering, right, not shouting? That would suck. Everyone would – “No, oh no, don’t – stop, yeah, don’t stop,” I heard myself saying.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Where were his hands? Ohhhh, yeah, wait, where were mine? Fuck this! I’m not helpless – uh, goddamn this zipper, how did he get mine down so easily? “Help me?” I heard myself squeak.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Mmft,” came the muffled reply as his tongue slid lower down my chest. Where the hell was my shirt? Had it simply abandoned ship with all my morals? What morals, who was I kidding, I’d have killed for this moment. Hell, I’d have killed just to have those sea blue eyes locked on mine, let alone, hey, they must be gazing at my navel by now – navel-gazing, ha ha… uh oh, lower than that? There … wasn’t much to see… lower than…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh god. Were Seth’s eyes closed? His mouth wasn’t. It was all I could do to breathe.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh – that sure doesn’t feel anything like the doctor’s finger did when – uh huh…. OK, then, Seth, watch out… gurgle… am I ever going to breathe normally again? I can’t keep this up all night, can I? Oh please, don’t let me keep THAT up all night, or even a minute longer, oh, sweet torture! Oh my nails are digging into his – what, his butt? What uh oh, yeah, baby, can I… no? Too ……… um…….</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Oh my god,” this from Seth. “You’re a hot number, aren’t you? Where have you been all my life? Come here.” This from someone whose breath tickled my belly button.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Seth – I am here. I’m okay….. I was there, now I’m… I’m uh…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“You liked that huh?” How could I hear him when his tongue was in my ear? Are we on the ground? A chaise lounge? I didn’t know I could bend my leg up this – how many hands does Seth have?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Bite me again, bitch!” Seth’s voice was a growl, like a bear.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">My mouth dried up instantly. And my teeth froze where they were. I was no more capable right then of spitting or licking or opening or closing my jaw than if I’d been bitten by a rabid chipmunk. Speaking of bitten – ow! “Seth!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Two of my fingers disappeared and I didn’t want to think where or how, but Seth seemed to like it. I sure liked what he was doing, front and back. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">There was no doubt about whether or not I came this time. And one of us was purring.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">When we stopped for breath – I mean, like the proverbial ‘afterwards’ in old books - I still had no idea where my shirt was but my jeans were twisted around one of my legs. At least, I think it was my leg. Eh – it might have been Seth’s leg, or it might have been his jeans, I don’t know. There was light coming from a window and Seth was raised up on one elbow, looking at me. I liked. I smiled.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Turn over a minute,” Seth said quietly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I grinned and giggled, thinking, again? Already?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">So I turned over, waiting, and I felt his hand run down my right shoulder. It made it itch and burn, his fingers left a trail of fire… I could hardly wait.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Did you ever have chicken pox?” came the sexy voice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Huh?” I remembered then that Seth was studying nursing, but still, get on with it, I’m ready! I murmured, “Yeah, why?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Because you have shingles.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“I – what?” As far as I knew, I didn’t even have siding or a roof, let alone shingles. The last guy I’d been with was a builder, and he’d never asked me about shingles. WTF?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Apparently, my dick had apparently failed to get the memo and was trying to lift me off the ground like a crane on steroids. Seth had moved and was sitting on my ass, which was fine in one way, but painful in another. I squirmed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">He was peering closer at my shoulder, and running his fingers around the already fiery part, making it expand, much like my squashed dick was trying to do. He was asking, “Does this hurt? Does that hurt?” and all I could reply was “umph” when I wanted to scream, “No your moron, it’s my dick!” which wasn’t true, actually, because my shoulder was now an agony of fire. The thought crossed my mind that this torture might just be another way of getting me hornier than hell, like when he nipped me with his teeth.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Seth was leaning closer now, and whispering, “How about this? Does this – hurt?” and his teeth closed in on my neck again. I shivered so violently with lust that I almost knocked Seth off my back. I’m sure he would have gone flying but with my first buck he had me by the – handle - and nobody was going anywhere.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I’d never come three times in an hour before in my life, but there’s a first time for everything.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Four times, if you count what happened when he was cleaning me up with his tongue a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>few minutes later.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I was half-sitting, leaning against the wall, watching the light shimmer on the water in the pool. The gate was locked – technically the pool was closed, but here we were in the shadows of the hedge, where no one could see us, and hopefully, no one could hear. Right now it didn’t matter, we were quiet together and oddly enough I felt myself crying. I don’t know why, but tears were dripping off my chin and nose and I tried to wipe them away without Seth seeing me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Your back is hurting you, isn’t it?” Seth spoke quietly, out of the blue. I could barely make out his body, but his face caught a moonbeam and I could see how deep his eyes had turned, serious now, no laughter or joy bringing up sparks from the depths. I didn’t know if I wanted to drown in them, or in the deep end of the pool. I was embarrassed, and yes, my shoulder was hurting very badly now.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I nodded dumbly, then realized he might now be able to see that. “It burns,” I mumbled and a sob escaped me, “Fuck!” I snarled at my big fat baby self. “Damnit!” I was so angry at myself I kicked my foot and my sandal went flying off and into the water with a quiet splash. How could I have gone from splendor to anger so quickly? Seth would think…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Seth chuckled. I wanted to kill him, but then he reached up and with one gentle finger, wiped the tears from beneath my eyes, and then leaned forward and kissed me so gently, so softly, that I – oh god, am I trite? – I melted. I felt as if I were oozing down into a puddle beside the pool. Unfortunately what was melting was my eyeballs and the tears just ran, no they poured, down my face. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Nor was my nose immune.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Seth put his arms around me and my head on his shoulder and again, patted me on the back. I giggled, afraid I’d burp, but then I was soothed, and able to stop crying. I did still want to die though, rather than have him see me like this, but he didn’t seem to mind. My patheticness – is that a word? – seemed to bring out a side of him he usually kept well hidden, and it seemed as if he was happy to be able to indulge this feeling with me. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">While all my teenage years I’d tried hard for ‘studly’, and only ever achieved ‘cute’ according to girls - not that I ever cared what they thought – this now seemed like a good thing. And I did feel completely pathetic, well, except for my dick, which once again, had failed to get the memo. All it was thinking was ‘more, please’. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had demanded in a husky voice, ‘Suck me, big boy!’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">But Seth was still being Supergod, wiping my tears, holding me away from him now, smiling. “Let’s get you to the ER or at least get those shingles taken care of before they get worse, then, when you feel better,” he looked up at me from beneath his long eye lashes, and one finger drew circles around my nipples, which firmed up like thumbtacks under his touch. I could imagine them whispering in unison, “We feel great! Right now!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">He pulled me to my feet. I had no idea where my pants were. Had they not just been tangled around my foot a while ago? Where was my shirt? Where the hell were we, come to think of it. I realized I had no idea. At some pool somewhere?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">While he still held onto me with one arm, he reached with the other and started groping around in the dimness behind me. There must have been a table or shelf there because his hand came back holding a bottle. “Drink up,” he told me, holding it to my lips. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Yeah. It was fire water. And I blurped it halfway across the pool as if I’d inhaled dragon breath. And of course, Seth patted me on the back some more, while I hung there off his hand, trying to find out where my lungs were now. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“You’re not used to this sort of thing, are you sweetie?” Seth asked. “Where the hell are you from?” He sighed, then helped me sit on one of the chaise lounges. He knelt beside me and stared deeply into my weeping eyes. “I can’t take you anywhere like this. You don’t even have pants. Not that that’s a bad thing, you darling boy.” He sighed. I thought I saw him drool. He ran a finger down my nose, off my lips and onto my chest. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” he asked unexpectedly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I blurted a laugh (all right, I snorted, there, are you happy?) “I was an hour ago!” I managed to choke out.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">He laughed. “Well,” he chuckled, “There’s virgins - and then there’s virgins! Ha ha!” Then he turned serious again. “Where are you staying and how soon can you move in with me instead?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I shook my head, wondering if suddenly we’d both turned into lesbians. I nodded, it was a stupid answer, but with my dick suddenly sprouting like a mushroom after rain, it was pretty obvious what I meant. And at that moment, I had no idea where I lived anyhow.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">That last part, of course, wasn’t true. I knew only too well, and had no intention of ever going back there if I could avoid it. If I didn’t, then I had what I stood up in – shit, well, you know what I mean. I figured I’d better get going and actually find what I had stood up in before all this wonderment had happened to me. But first, I had to be sure, and for that – I wanted to look strong, to look at Seth as an equal, as a partner, as … but in the end I stood there naked, looking up at him from under my tear-drenched lashes, my lips bruised with his kisses, my eyes full of yet more unshed tears. His answer was in his eyes, and then I was in his arms again, our hearts beating together.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">It was all so trite I almost wanted to throw up, but hey, if my life was not going to be one big, long studly adventure, then perhaps a nice hot romance would not be so bad in its place.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">After a while, we found my pants, retrieved my sandal, and gathered up everything else we had brought with us to this now empty party site. We climbed over the fence, falling on each other in a heap on the outside, and he guided me to his car. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I, of course, cried the whole time, but Seth didn’t seem to mind.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">On the drive to Seth’s house, I managed to stop sobbing and calm down. He pulled into a drugstore and told me he’d be right back and asked if I wanted anything. I told him I’d need a toothbrush and he ran his tongue over his lips as if to say, no you don’t, you can use mine. </span></div><div class="MsoPlainText"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">Seth was back, with that big smile and those blue eyes and that dimple I had always wanted to lick. “I know the pharmacist. I got you an antiviral and some ointment. We’re gonna make you feel goooood with no ER necessary!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seth was happy as he tossed several bags into the back seat. “And I got you a toothbrush, you big sissy, afraid to use mine are you?” and with that, he leaned over to kiss me and ran his tongue around my teeth, giggling. I had to laugh too, at the irony, and at the fact that his tongue tickled mine.</span></div><div class="MsoPlainText"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">Then he turned to me, his hand on my cheek, and caught his breath. “Listen,” he started, then he closed his eyes, opened them again, licked his lips. “I want you to be with me. I feel – I dunno, there’s just something about you. I need you to be with me. I won’t – fuck you if you don’t want, I won’t...” </span></div><div class="MsoPlainText"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">But here I had to interrupt. I was going to cry again and the tears I was holding back prickled my eyes. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, as if the air had stopped entering the car. My eyes went from his to his lips to the light outside, my hand reached for his, and then for his face. He was already so dear to me, the crush part still alive within me, but layered over now by a deepness I had never felt before. It was as if I’d known him all my life, and for whatever lives I may have had before. For eternity, maybe. I nodded, and just whispered, “I know, my dear, I know.”</span></div><div class="MsoPlainText"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">And he leaned in and we kissed. And outside the car – well I’d like to say the stars turned into fireworks and the moon turned green with envy, but that didn’t happen. All that happened was some man went by snarling, “Fucking homos! Goddamn queers. They’re everywhere!” And our lips blew away from each other as if we’d been caught by a nun, but we caught each other’s eyes and burst out laughing at the exact same time. Then Seth’s elbow hit the horn, the man jumped as if he’d been shot, and we laughed even harder, falling against each other, helpless with hilarity, and joy.</span></div><div class="MsoPlainText"><br />
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</div></div>Emeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07743017814639112972noreply@blogger.com0