Just an idea that passed through my head...
Wetting his hands, Jay slapped his cheeks to buzz him for the night to come. He relied on these little natural highs, the tiny shots of adrenaline, to prepare. He didn't drink or smoke dope, he never had, and had never been inclined to. Though even had he wanted to, he never had the paper in his pocket to pay for it.
He glanced down at the reflection's shirt. A baby blue combat style shirt, epaulets and pockets symmetrically opposed on his neck and chest. It looked as if it were a couple of years old- it had been ironed well, but there was a hole just below one of the epaulets, and it fitted him far too well to be new. Reaching across to tuck the hole out of sight, he began to consider buttons.
Obviously at least one, two almost certainly, perhaps three? You can't have just one... or can you?
Jay buttoned his shirt right to the top, and tucked his shirt into his jeans. It was a nice look, though slightly too militaristic, he thought. He settled on two.
People were Jay's buzz. He loved the discovery of a new face, and a new smile. He savoured every little quirk and characteristic, all the little flaws that make someone unique. Where other guys saw breasts and legs, Jay saw an entire universe, contained within a slender frame. He lived for the electric moments when a shared glance would fuse two worlds together for an instant.
The reflection looked away to the right for a moment, giving Jay a chance to look through the cabinet on his left. For a few minutes he fumbled around in the cornucopia of increasingly bizarre vials and elixirs. Finally he grasped a bottle, and held it against the fading sunlight to examine.
Paco Rabanne Pour Homme- Bleu.
A conservative choice, but nonetheless an old friend. The bottle reflected a pool of light onto his left cheek, leaving his right in shadow. Pouring a liberal amount onto his hands, he splashed the fluid against his neck, leaving the lingering sensation of being licked.
What's more, he was single again. His abject lack of interest in anything physical meant he was badly matched for long term relationships. He could happily recite poetry for hours upon end, but never cared enough to satisfy a woman's corporeal desires. And he could recite poetry for hours. There were more volumes scattered across his floor than there were bottles neatly stacked on his shelves.
Jay gave his reflection a final examination. There was nothing out of place. Giving the mirror a goodbye kiss, he turned, and sprang out of the room.
Short story by JAMES ROSS
Read 641 times
Written on 2011-06-01 at 20:11
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Jay
Jay winked at himself in the mirror, his cheeks dimpling slightly as he grinned. The eyes that stared back at him twinkled with excitement. He ran his hand across the length of his neck, tilting his head back slightly as he enjoyed the feel of his larynx beneath his long fingers. From that angle, he could see clear up his own nose, and checked to make sure it was clean. He pulled a comb once more through his tumbling dark hair, smiling as he did so. He looked good.Wetting his hands, Jay slapped his cheeks to buzz him for the night to come. He relied on these little natural highs, the tiny shots of adrenaline, to prepare. He didn't drink or smoke dope, he never had, and had never been inclined to. Though even had he wanted to, he never had the paper in his pocket to pay for it.
He glanced down at the reflection's shirt. A baby blue combat style shirt, epaulets and pockets symmetrically opposed on his neck and chest. It looked as if it were a couple of years old- it had been ironed well, but there was a hole just below one of the epaulets, and it fitted him far too well to be new. Reaching across to tuck the hole out of sight, he began to consider buttons.
Obviously at least one, two almost certainly, perhaps three? You can't have just one... or can you?
Jay buttoned his shirt right to the top, and tucked his shirt into his jeans. It was a nice look, though slightly too militaristic, he thought. He settled on two.
People were Jay's buzz. He loved the discovery of a new face, and a new smile. He savoured every little quirk and characteristic, all the little flaws that make someone unique. Where other guys saw breasts and legs, Jay saw an entire universe, contained within a slender frame. He lived for the electric moments when a shared glance would fuse two worlds together for an instant.
The reflection looked away to the right for a moment, giving Jay a chance to look through the cabinet on his left. For a few minutes he fumbled around in the cornucopia of increasingly bizarre vials and elixirs. Finally he grasped a bottle, and held it against the fading sunlight to examine.
Paco Rabanne Pour Homme- Bleu.
A conservative choice, but nonetheless an old friend. The bottle reflected a pool of light onto his left cheek, leaving his right in shadow. Pouring a liberal amount onto his hands, he splashed the fluid against his neck, leaving the lingering sensation of being licked.
What's more, he was single again. His abject lack of interest in anything physical meant he was badly matched for long term relationships. He could happily recite poetry for hours upon end, but never cared enough to satisfy a woman's corporeal desires. And he could recite poetry for hours. There were more volumes scattered across his floor than there were bottles neatly stacked on his shelves.
Jay gave his reflection a final examination. There was nothing out of place. Giving the mirror a goodbye kiss, he turned, and sprang out of the room.
Short story by JAMES ROSS
Read 641 times
Written on 2011-06-01 at 20:11
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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