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Blowing It

September 1, 2013

There was a pause as the words previously spoken settled, gelled. The ideas presented had to come together, meld into a whole. Then the implications had to be considered. Where would it all likely go?

This pause in the dialog became uncomfortable. Eventually, the young man who had presented the ideas, had speoken the words, had to break the silence. Clearly the other guy wasn’t getting it.

“So? What do you think?”

“About what you just said, or the—”

There was some mild annoyance apparent now, “What I just said. You were listening, right?”

Having shown his impatience a tad too obvious, he tried to smooth it over, make it all more palatable. He laid a hand on the other man’s chest.

“Ok. That. Well, there are several problems. Let’s call them plot holes, like in a story.”

“Alright,” the young cute man seemed confident that these things could be worked out.

“First, there’s the fact that just talking about this kind of thing is liable to get people into a lot of trouble. You aren’t at all concerned you might find yourself under some uncomfortable scrutiny?”

“No. You wouldn’t tell anyone. Right? You love me.”

“Oh, brainwashed. But then there’s what happens to me should I…do what you suggested. That doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course. But this world is too far gone for us to live happily together. We have to fight so future generations will live happier.”

“Yes. Of course. So, we’d never be together…”

“In the next life. See, we’re all just sparks of energy—”

“Yeah. Save the bullshit, Deepak,” he laughed.

“How can you talk to me this way?”

The younger man seemed genuinely hurt.

“Well, that brings me to the other thing. There was a nice workmanship effort. Really, not bad.

“But someone in love? Honey, you can only fake that so far.”

The truth was starting to dawn on the younger man.

“How can you say that? After all we…you said…?”

Tears were coming, too. At least those looked genuine.

“C’mon. I knew you weren’t him before I laid eyes on you. It’s pattern matching. You guys really could learn a lesson or two from the trannies, I’m just sayin’.

“This is the gay version of virgins in Paradise. Some dumb f— radical conservative thought it would work on gays domestically. God! I can’t believe I’m losing to you people.”

The young imposter got out of bed, plucked the used condom from where it was still, rather comically, lodged and threw it at the other. The target mostly dodged it, but the childish act threw him further into hysterics.

“Be sure to tell them, ‘the little fish I throw back.’ I’m sure they’ll get it.”

There was now a new uncomfortable silence. The younger man was mostly clothed and heading out the door.

The older man caught him in the doorway with one last thing, “Oh, one more thing…”

“I know! I know, ‘f— you, Cynthia.’ Ha-ha,” and he slammed the door.

The older man shook his head and adjusted the pillow. He tossed the rubber at the garbage can. When he spoke, it was to an empty room.

“Actually, I was going to say that they don’t know the first thing about love. Pretty sure I just made the other point most palpably obvious.”

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From → NKINTRA, Short Story

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