Current Mood:
High
The door was ancient. Splintered and cracked… metal cut through
the wood elegantly holding the hinges in. The clock to his left read 3:09. He
stuck in the ancient key and twisted it to the door’s liking to reveal the
other side. There was nothing there but an empty darkness- much like his
mind. He seemed to see a boney fleshless hand emerge from the shadows. It
beckoned him forward. He took a step into the darkness, obeying the beckons,
though knowing they only existed in his mind. He could see nothing, hear nothing,
and feel nothing. His senses were completely clouded by the darkness and there
was no knowing where he was headed. He longed to believe there was a presence
with him, a company, but there was none. He imagined that if the path were lit,
he would have guidance by the black cloaked figure of death. But it was non
existent. He was alone. Utterly, completely alone. He began to hear a low female voice
echo through him. A voice that sounded much like Helen. He gripped his hair and
gritted his teeth to keep himself form either attacking the darkness or crying.
He strode forward, still gripping his hair. He slipped on a puddle of some sort
that lay on the darkness beneath him. It smelt raw. Rotting flesh. He gagged, but forced back the
burning in his throat. He shit his pants and let out a dainty rattle through his teeth.
He
fell to the floor, his face now immersed in the cold flesh and blood. The
darkness began spinning around him and he felt himself begin to lose
consciousness. The gore dripped down his throat, suffocating him. He spat, but
it was no use. Helen’s voice was again apparent. A silver light appeared before him-
taking the shape of a woman. It was Helen. Her sad and deeply lined face
pierced him. Her voice trailed through the darkness.
“Dave…”
He coughed up the remains of the nachos onto his beer sodden
shirt. He caressed the Chelsea
flag next to his bed and turned off the telly. He pulled off his dirty t-shirt and
threw it onto the floor with the others. Then laid down close to Jake’s warm body
and ruffled his hair.
“Hey Snowflake!”
he said, waking Jake.
“Good morning,
Sexy!” Jake replied obviously not noticing Dave’s bare, fat stomach.
“Up for some tea
and crumpets?” Dave asked. Jake nodded and they embraced each other briefly.
Then Dave tied his robe around himself and made his way into the kitchen- he had
offered to serve Jake breakfast in bed. As he filled the tea kettle, he
wondered if that dream was hauntingly telling him he was still straight. The doorbell rang
and he skipped to answer it. Just there was the test of his manhood. There was
an undressed prostitute and a rather flamboyant prostidude. His mouth dropped
open as he looked from one to the other.
“What the
bloody hell-” He broke off, not knowing what to say. He began to panic slightly
as he found himself longing for the woman.
“Pumpkin…” Jake
said, reaching the door, “oh, visitors.” He started making eyes at the man
there. Dave
noticed Jake looking down at the man’s gifts.
“How ‘bout I
take the lady and you take the gentleman?” he suggested. Jake agreed. They had
both found themselves that morning. All was well.
THE END
Meg
and
Nikki
Nostalgic