Been depressed quite a bit lately, it comes and goes, some days are full of sunshine other days, gloom. Seraph74 reviewed one of my stories, Merry Christmas Patrick, and asked for a sequel. So, with doing better to do, I’ve now got a fresh faced sixteen-year-old moving into a college dorm with an eighteen-year-old, who started in summer term, thinking all sorts of nasty thoughts about the cute boy with alluring eyes at the other end of the footlocker.

It’s the autumn of 1971, barely two years after Stonewall and Patrick has found a new world where being gay isn’t such a big deal as his aunt and uncle make it out to be, but is Patrick gay? Ask him and he’ll probably simply shrug his shoulders. He’s fairly independent, but personal things are, well, personal and he isn’t all that open about where his interest lies. Though he does think Chris is kind of cute if anyone were to ask.

I haven’t come to the spot where Aunt Agnes, his father’s sister, arrives on scene, but she’s sure to show up sometime before the curtain falls for the final time.

Well, that’s about it. I guess I’ll go back to being depressed.