D.K. Daniels

The moment is fleeting, so the boys best make the most of it. I'm sure though this summer will be the most memorable of their entire lives. Thanks for reading.

8th July 1991: I have happy and sad news. The good news is that Ross enjoyed his birthday party; you should've seen his smile. Though I'll get to that in a minute, first, I want to say the sad bit. Since the party concluded, I've been sitting here since I found out. It was increasingly hard to try and party when all I could think about was the sad news. It's like the centre of my chest is caving in. I was getting comfortable, and then all of a sudden, Ross's parents say that it's time

7th July 1991: Yesterday and today have been crazy. I have been scrambling all over, striving to get most of the critical stuff done for Ross's big day tomorrow. The good news is I'm back talking to Carl; he came over to help sort out some items in my shed that I require for tomorrow. I want everything to be handy so that when the time comes, all I ought to do is take the stuff out of the shed and set it up in the morning. I don't fancy Ross being around, so I asked Eli to distract him for

Yikes.... How did that get there... Sorry lol.

Thanks for reading, and commenting. I just noticed I posted the previous chapter again, not sure how that happened. Sorry lol.

Oh man, I lived for the kids' table growing up — seriously, I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything. When I was a teen and even into my early twenties, I’d still choose to hang out with the younger cousins instead of sitting at the adult table talking taxes, football stats, or whatever new diet everyone was on. The kids were just fun. They kept things silly and light, and honestly, that was all I wanted — just to enjoy the moment without worrying about the boring “grown-up stuff.” One year, during a family holiday gathering, we had this wild hail-and-sleet storm roll through. While the adults stayed dry inside, the boys and I turned the icy mix into a full-on snowball fight. We were compacting sleet into these rock-solid snowballs (definitely questionable in hindsight), and launching them at each other like it was a battlefield. At one point, someone hit a metal post — the sound was insane! We all burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing we’d ever heard. Dangerous? Probably. But that kind of reckless, in-the-moment fun is what I miss most. Looking back now, those memories are the kind that stick — pure chaos, laughter, and being fully present. Even now, when I’m at the adult table, part of me wants to sneak off and see what kind of trouble the kids are getting into. That’s where the real party is!

I don’t really buy into the idea of aliens visiting Earth — at least not in the way movies tend to show it. And since I don’t believe in a god or anything like that, I try to take a pretty rational look at these kinds of questions. That said, I do believe there’s something like an emotional or energetic connection between all living things. Not magic with wands and spells, but something quieter, subtler — less “Harry Potter” and more a kind of unseen thread. Even from a rational standpoint, that idea of an interconnected energy leaves me with some thought-provoking questions. If something like that exists between us here, could it stretch farther than we think? Could it mean that even if we are “alone” in the sense of alien life, we’re still part of something bigger? So, to answer the October question, “Are we alone?” — I’m not sure. I don’t think we’ve had visitors yet, but I also don’t think isolation is as complete as it seems. If anything ever does come our way, I’d lean more toward printing the apology brochure than putting up a “No Trespassing” sign. Maybe the best we can do right now is take care of the connections we do have and clean up our own backyard before we start worrying about unexpected guests. 💜

5th July 1991: Being a sincere man to my word, the first responsibility I began when I got up this morning was that I went out and fed the chickens. I haven't fulfilled the duty in over a month which is funny because I don't seem to make an effort to do it. Dad automatically takes on the obligation of whatever I'm supposed to be doing. Anyhow, I managed the task this morning. Why am I writing it in here? It seems like a proud accomplishment that I fulfilled this chore without having to

Thanks for reading, and sometimes I find that stating the obvious, and just agreeing that people just live instead of creating a whole history, and making it sound like they did incurable thing to be much more appetising. Most people just live quietly, and are lucky to find that special person. So, I'm glad that you enjoyed the story.

Thanks for reading the story, and I'm glad that the story moved you.

Thank you for the kind words, and I'm glad you liked the story.

@Tris, @Parker Owens & @VBlew Thank you so much, I'm glad that you enjoyed the story. The notion always intrigued me about those historical photos, and them having such rich story behind them. The recent writing challenge over on IOMFATS prompted me to write, so I guess my thanks is Tim, and that challenge. I probably wouldn't have writing anything if it wasn't for writing challenge prompt, and I'm happy that I decided to go ahead and create something a little bit different than my normal work, but equally as special.

When Evan discovers an old photograph of two young men standing shoulder to shoulder in 1920s Newhaven, he uncovers the hidden story of Kit Merrick and Rowan Hale—dockworkers who dared to love each other in a world that offered them no words for it. What began as a ten-cent fairground portrait became their proof: tucked into a cap, stitched into a coat pocket, guarded through storms, family burdens, and the long work of becoming men. Decades later, as Evan frames the picture and gives it light, he realizes that their secret has outlasted silence—a fragile inch of closeness captured on film, carrying a love strong enough to endure across time.

He found the photograph under a ribbon the color of old sky. It lay at the bottom of a shoebox that had once carried a pair of leather boots to a life that was mostly standing on factory floors, on pier planks, in kitchens where you waited for kettles to boil. The shoebox had softened with the years, its corners bruised to a roundness. Inside: grocery receipts turned sugar-brown, a hymn card, three hairpins, a wooden button, a ticket stub with the date rubbed thin, and the picture.

Lets hope their relationship continues to blossom.

5th July 1991: Being a sincere man to my word, the first responsibility I began when I got up this morning was that I went out and fed the chickens. I haven't fulfilled the duty in over a month which is funny because I don't seem to make an effort to do it. Dad automatically takes on the obligation of whatever I'm supposed to be doing. Anyhow, I managed the task this morning. Why am I writing it in here? It seems like a proud accomplishment that I fulfilled this chore without having to

I'm in favour of the romance, and I enjoy watching and reading stories about them. At least, that's what initially drove me to write a great deal of romance books. However, I have found that the more I write, the more I want to explore bigger concepts with gay characters, rather than just focusing on the romance as the central aspect. As mentioned above, Chucky is an interesting development; it's not exclusively for a queer audience, but its inclusion into mainstream is fascinating. I'd love more projects like this; the story is the main emphasis, and gay folks just live in that world, but have, of course, significant roles. Something about it just makes the world feel more alive for me when the LGBTQ aspect is not the centre of the universe. I like to know about the other people around the characters, and their issues and problems.

I've met a few famous people, working in the film industry. I've met the Irish actor and producer Baz Black. We've worked on one or two projects, and he's a really nice guy. I've met the comedian Sir Stevo Timothy, also a really nice guy, I got my picture taken with him. I've met the Irish comedian Tommy Tiernan. I've got a few peoples autographs, mostly from my teenage years, but I managed to pick up Dakota Fanning's autograph, I was, and still am a big fan. I've got all the Apollo 3 members signature from around 2009/10 when they where a band, and I've got Oscar Stembridge's autograph, as I was supporting new and upcoming talent at the time. The kid reminds me of Boy In Space a little, and he's got some really good music.

Its good to know Eli is a trustworthy, and good friend, he'll need good friends for the future. Thanks for reading

5th July 1991: Part 2 Sor…. Sor...ry... S... Never mind the previous statement; my pen wasted. I was trying to say sorry. Though I have no notion as to why I'm saying sorry, I needed to have dinner. Nevertheless, Eli approached me with the screwdriver in his hand; my insides rattled. Near the last minute, he brushed past me and plopped the tool down on a work area littered with airsoft rifles. I believed for a moment that Eli was going to plunge the spike of the sharp object into

We love the cliffhangers, mind you, and I guess he made it out alive, or the plot twist could be Eli hid the body, and is making up an alibi. I guess we'll have to wait and see if he made it through lol.

Things might get messy, but at least Adam is speaking, and in his own messy way, he's making progress, and progress is always good lol.

5th July 1991: Part 1 Well, my mind is in a tizzy now. Sigh. My secret is not a secret anymore. Well, to Eli. Why did I give him that part of me? I believed I was coming straight… and I don't mean ironically. But being upfront about why I turned down his sister would be a valid excuse for why I said what I said. When I turned up at his property, Eli was in his front garden. He was with another group of boys. All along, as I walked ahead, I felt like I wanted to throw up. I was afraid,

Its about time these two boys get to show their emotions, finding the right words to say is difficult, but through action, it provokes a much stronger sense of commitment to what could be a nice relationship for the boys. Hope you're enjoying the progression of the story. Thanks for reading.

Kids falling in love for the first time, their expressions of love are like a sledgehammer and so abrupt that its almost funny. Any movie dates I had as a teenager, I always tend to remember the movie, whether it was good or bad more than the actual date lol. Thanks for reading.