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Talo Segura

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  1. Talo Segura

    Chapter Six – Magic Mushrooms.

    Thanks @Marty for your encouraging comments. We might well be getting to the trippy bit of the story (if that's allowed, haha!). In the meantime the next chapter is getting uploaded today. Enjoy.
  2. Talo Segura

    Flat Lining (flash story)

    The ending was fine, I would have liked more at the beginning. Who was the person being resuscitated?
  3. Talo Segura

    The Bench (short story)

    It really is about things unsaid, as @Geron Kees touched upon, kind of ephemeral conversations where something is talked around, which in this case was the feelings Brian had for Mick. Those feelings were echoed by the relationship between Tom and Mary, but Mick, gave the impression that he was not gay and so it would be unrequited love. They were happy, yet sad, Mick was wrapped up in himself and Brian was there, doting. There was actually an awful lot in a short chapter.
  4. Talo Segura

    Chapter Six – Magic Mushrooms.

    The story so far... Max shares an apartment and a relationship with Aeriol. Max's confidant Geoffrey is no longer around, he's gone overseas, to Brazil. Jules also shares their apartment in a kind of unofficial fashion, he's always there, but he rests a mystery. Alex turns out to be the brother of Nads (Nadia). Having slept with Aeriol, he confides in him that he fancies Max. They end up in bed together, Alex and Max, but nothing happened. Nadia has a relationship with May (Mayaan), who also has a thing for Aeriol, which I guess makes Aeriol bi, and May too. Outside of these complex relationships there is Reuben, but he's also planning to move overseas, leaving behind Davy. But who exactly is Davy and why does this boy seem to fascinate Max? Our hero, is that really Max, or Aeriol, or even Jules? They've all been getting high, smoking dope, chanting in an ashram, getting off, and almost getting busted in an early morning raid. There are others too, Chester and his son Michael, whose apparently a dream, but then there's the reality of all that. Which just about brings us up to date and to this next chapter aptly titled Magic Mushrooms. Now read on... Chapter Six - Magic Mushrooms. “Are you going to see Aeriol?” Nadia was wondering just how much Mayaan liked him. She was also curious about what happened at the apartment when the police came round. Alex had come home, but hadn’t said much, despite her trying to wheedle information out of him. “I think I might.” Mayaan glanced at Nadia, batting her eyelids coquettishly. “If you two are going over there you can send Max here.” Alex looked from his sister to Mayaan. “Tell him I don’t fancy hanging out at his place with all the drugs.” “What d’you mean? All the drugs?” Nadia looked cross. “I told you all that already, Nads.” “Uh, no. I think you forget the bit about ‘all the drugs.” “Yeah, well, it doesn’t make any difference they've nearly always got stuff there.” “Nads, let’s go and see. We can get the whole story. Leave your prissy brother here.” “Okay, but if you start coming on to Aeriol, then I’m not hanging around. I might just have to come back with Max.” “It's better if you didn't,” Alex grinned at his sister. “Sure it is,” Nadia left the room to get her coat. Mayaan followed, smiling to herself about all the intertwined relations going on. Alex was left by himself. He chose that, the girls wouldn't have objected, Mayaan wondered why the drugs were suddenly such a big thing. ÷÷÷÷÷÷ “Reuben, hello. It’s Max.” “What can I do for you Max?” “It’s a bit long to explain everything, but I wanted to get in contact with Davy.” “But...” “I know what you’re gonna say,” Max interrupted. “That I hardly know him.” “Well yeah. That, and if he didn’t give you his phone and address, then...” “I forgot to ask.” “Alright, but I’m not giving you his number. Maybe he doesn’t want to see you. Why would he?” “Don’t be a spoil sport. What’s it to you anyway?” Reuben had a lot of things to be getting on with and he didn’t feel like debating all this over the phone. “I’ll give Davy your number. Then if he wants to, he can call you.” “Thanks a lot,” Max replied a little sarcastically. He hung up, then went to join Aeriol and Jules in the front room. “You’ve practically moved in,” he smiled at Jules. “It’s a home form home.” Jules passed a big fat reefer to Max. It sputtered and crackled as he drew on it. “It's not bad for home grown,” Jules winked. “It's fucking ace,” Aeriol took the joint from Max. Max thought any dope would be ace for Aeriol. His weed consumption knew no bounds, and the drying plants in the attic filled a void in supplies that he was quick to take advantage of. You might say it was business as usual, despite the fact that they’d been raided. “I’m not sure about ace, but it’s okay.” Max looked at Jules. “Anyhow it’s all there is.” Aeriol added. “Nobody's got any stuff since the raid and Gavin’s arrest.” “What’s happening with Gavin?” Max asked just as the doorbell sounded. “Stash the weed! Stash the weed!” Jules laughed. “You're stoned. Idiot. Max can you go answer that?” Max made his way downstairs. It was obvious Aeriol and Jules were not about to move. He opened the door and greeted Nadia and Mayaan. “They're in the lounge. Jules and Aeriol.” He followed the girls upstairs. “Nads, has Alex said anything to you?” Nadia turned and waited for Max, Mayaan went straight into the front room. “He told me to tell you to come over.” Nadia smiled, then turned. “I might just come back with you if May starts doing her number on Aeriol.” “Not much chance there, I think. He’s pretty stoned.” It was a large front room with huge bay windows, an old but perfectly good sofa and matching armchair, but the lack of heat output from the fire left everyone on the floor in front of it. The furniture was in the cold wasteland of the empty side of the room. Dark red velvet curtains, a little faded, adorned the huge windows. The thickness and colour of the drapes gave only a semblance of cosiness and did nothing very much to keep the room warm. Max found himself drifting, wondering if he could make the effort to go round to Nad's and see Alex. Did he even want to see him? Aeriol would have told him he did, and he was probably right. It occurred to him that it might actually be warm there, if he pushed himself up and made the effort. So he did. “Later guys!” He said to no one in particular, and nobody responded, other than Jules, who managed a nod. “What happened with the PO...leece?” Mayaan’s exaggerated tone sounded like a silky voiced prostitute. Or was Aeriol simply having depraved thoughts? Nadia definitely got the hump, but didn't after all, follow Max home. Jules was flopped out on his favourite bean bag with an imbecilic grin plastered across his face. ÷÷÷÷÷÷ Alex hadn’t expected that Max would show up, but was more than pleasantly surprised that he did. Opening the front door he grabbed the boy around the waist and pulled him inside. “Oh wow, I see someone's pleased to see me,” Max returned the smile. “Nad's gave you my message then?” “Of course. I’m here aren’t I?” “You stoned?” “Maybe, just a little.” They were in Alex’s room, and looking around it was so much better than the flat. Warm too. Alex sat down on the bed and shuffled up to lean against the headboard. Max looked at him a moment, then joined him. They were laying side by side. “I like your room,” Max took in the nicely decorated walls, window blinds, desk, large TV. Everything reminded him of living at home in his parents house. He missed the home comforts. “Yeah, it’s a nice place. That’s because our aunt owns the house and she gave us the ground floor apartment. “Gave you?” “I know, it sounds too good and all that, but she did. Nad’s and me pay the bills of course.” “Of course!” Max exclaimed like it was only to be expected. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, don’t get all jealous. We’re lucky, so what. It happens.” Alex leaned half over and stared straight into Max’s eyes. “How does Aeriol put up with you?” “Oh yeah, good one,” Max pushed him off. “How does he put up with me? You got that the wrong way round.” Alex settled back on his side of the bed. “What is it between you and him?” There was a silence before Max replied. Like he was thinking about how to provide an answer, or maybe trying to decide if he knew. “It’s all a long story. Probably boring.” “You mean you don’t want to say,” Alex looked sideways at Max, who was lying stretched out with his hands behind his head. It looked like he was staring at some ill defined spot somewhere on the ceiling. “I’d like to know.” Max let out a sigh. “Okay, I’ll try to make it short. Stop me if you get bored.” Alex simply smiled, but said nothing. “We go back some way, like we were in high school together.” Max shifted himself to look at Alex. He was trying to see whether this story was truly interesting or just a pass time. It was always a major problem for Max, a question of trust, could he be confident in Alex? “You want a beer maybe? Or something else?” Alex sat up, ready to go and get whatever they had in the kitchen. They definitely had some beer, and fruit juice, maybe even a bottle of vodka, if May hadn’t drunk it all. “I know how it is,” Alex stood up. “Like with me and Nad's, you just kind of fall into things. So I’m guessing that’s what happened with you guys?” “You got anything other than beer?” “Maybe some vodka. Is that good?” “Great. With some juice?” Alex went in search of the vodka and Max shifted up the bed, sitting up and taking everything in. There was a bookcase with some large volumes on the bottom shelf and a row of various sized paperbacks on the top. He wondered what great literary works Alex might read, but he felt too comfortable to get up and look. “Vodka and orange,” Alex announced, handing a glass to Max, then closing the door and sitting back down next to him. Aeriol studied the glass, looking at Alex, and deciding to continue the story. Or, at least a part of it. “Aeriol lived at home with an older brother. Actually, that’s a bit wrong. He shared a bedroom with his older brother. He’s got three brothers, two younger, and a sister.” Max took a long sip of the vodka orange. Almost immediately he felt better. The burn of the alcohol seemed to relax him. “I went round his house a couple of times. I was blown away by their bedroom. I don’t mean it was big or anything, just that, well. They’d painted this wardrobe in bright primary colours and covering both doors was a huge psychedelic mushroom. Straight out of Alice in Wonderland. A red top with white spots. I mean, you know right, that Alice in Wonderland is not some fairy tale story?” He glanced across at Alex, sipped the vodka, and continued. “It’s all about drugs. You know, it’s a trip. Magic mushrooms, potions, getting small, shrinking, the Mad Hatter. Yeah, it’s one wild trip. Well, that’s got nothing to do with what I was telling you.” Alex smiled and spoke for the first time in ages, “Except for the mushroom.” “Yeah, the fucking mushroom.” He finished his vodka and turned away to rest the empty glass on the bedside table. “I couldn’t believe his parents would let them paint that on the cupboard. But Jake, that’s Aeriol’s brother, said they could do what they liked with their room and their parents never came in there. Jeez, I could never have done that in my house. They used to get stoned in there too. With the window open.” “Hold on a minute, I’m just...” Max interrupted him. “It's getting boring?” He asked. “No way. I’m just gonna fetch the vodka and orange.” “Okay,” Max smiled at that. Alex didn’t take long to come back with the bottle and refill their glasses. “Aeriol’s dad is Polish. This is another little... deviation,” Max chuckled to himself. “But it has a bearing on what happened. I wouldn't be stupid enough to say all Polish dads are like Aeriol's, but I had another friend, Keith, who lived with his brother and they were Polish. And, well, Keith’s dad was pretty fucking similar to Aeriol’s. What that means is when Aeriol was young, not just him, all the brothers, their dad whacked them. Just exactly the same as Keith, they both told me all this.” “It’s not so unusual,” Alex looked over the top of his glass of vodka orange. “I could tell you a story too. But finish yours first.” Alex flicked a switch turning on one of the bedside lights. It was getting dark. “Maybe, I don’t know. My parents never hit me. Back to what happened. A big argument that’s what. About drugs, mainly. Something happened, I’m not sure exactly, but Aeriol’s old man was not so well, Aeriol was much bigger now, and getting a beating wasn’t on the cards. I suppose that was why they kicked him out.” “Wait...” Alex had a serious frown on his forehead. “You’re telling me Aeriol got kicked out of home?” “Yeah.” “And this was when? He was how old?” “A couple of years back. He was sixteen I guess. Still at school. We were in the same year, but he’s almost a year younger than me.” “So what happened?” “He found a squat to live in. Not on his own. Aeriol can’t ever be on his own. No, he had Billy with him, they shared a large room on the first floor of this old deserted building that people were squatting. At the beginning, they had gas and water. It was an unbelievable old place, there were actually gas lights either side of the entrance hall. At least until someone ripped them down, probably sold them as antiques.” “You hung out there?” “It’s a bit sad to admit Alex, but I never had any friends. Yes I hung out with Aeriol and Billy.” “You said you had this friend called Keith.” “Um, yeah. I meant I never had any friends at school. The only kids I knew were through Aeriol. Keith I knew through my best friend from when I was young. You see, everybody I knew was through other people. Or at least anyone I spent time hanging out with.” “And your best friend from when you were young?” “He’s dead.” Suddenly the room took on the reflection of the night outside the window. Alex thought he might have asked one too many questions. Looking at Max, it appeared like he’d become unwound and at the same time deflated. He got up off the bed and walked over to the window, closing the blinds. “How about we get something to eat?” That seemed to lighten the atmosphere. Max was hungry. = = = = = =
  5. Talo Segura

    Chapter Five - Exposed.

    It was a week later when nearly everyone got woken by banging and hammering on the front door. “Jesus Christ, what’s going on!” Max rolled over to get up. “You better go see,” Alex was half awake beside him. As he arrived at the top of the stairs he heard Aeriol coming down from upstairs. “Hold on! Hold on! I’m coming,” he called down the stairs. Adrenaline was starting to pump through his body as he moved quickly down the stairs. “Police! Open the door!” He had no time to think and did as instructed. Two uniformed policemen pushed past him and rushed up stairs, a third blocked the front door. “After you kid,” the officer nodded towards the stairs. “What the fuck?” Aeriol was standing in the hall as the first policeman entered the apartment. Soon Aeriol, Max, and three police officers were crowded in the hallway. The officer who'd followed Max up the stairs produced a white sheet of paper and held it up. “We have a warrant to search the premises. How many people are living here?” “There’s me, Aeriol,” Max nodded towards Aeriol, “and Alex, he’s in the bedroom.” “That’s all? Three of you?” “No, Jules stayed over. He took the couch in the lounge,” Aeriol added. “Right let’s all go into the kitchen and sit down. You,” he pointed at Max, “fetch Alex.” Which is what Max did, coming back into the kitchen with a rather shaky Alex. It was at that moment Max started to come down from his adrenaline high. He began to feel the early morning cold. There wasn't any heating in their place, only an old gas fire in the lounge. He wrapped his arms around himself, realising he only had his boxers on. “We have reason to believe,” the guy who appeared to be a senior officer was saying, “that there maybe Class II drugs on these premises and this warrant gives us the right to search.” Nobody said anything. “Look, let’s make this easy for everyone. If you have any drugs here, then tell us now.” Max looked at the officer, he was trying not to shake. “We don’t do drugs. Honestly.” Now that statement could easily be taken as total horseshit. They did do drugs. However, as things turned out, they had gotten very stoned last weekend and they’d exhausted their supply. Luckily for them they had not been able to replenish that from their usual sources. The officer looked hard at Max. “Who sleeps where?” Max choked on his response. “Alex and me are in the back bedroom. Aeriol is upstairs. And I guess Jules is in the lounge.” “You and him,” the officer looked at Alex, “sleep together?” “It’s not against the law,” Max replied feebly. “Okay, you,” the officer indicated Max, “go with this officer and watch while he searches your bedroom. You, Aeriol, that’s your real name?” “Yeah, my parents had a sense of humour.” Aeriol grinned. But the police officer didn’t look like he shared the joke. “You go up to your bedroom with this officer. Then we’ll deal with the guy in the lounge.” Alex watched as the other two boys left. At the same time the shortwave radio the senior officer held crackled alive. He moved away from Alex who all the same heard him confirm they were at the address and the search was in progress. Max stood shivering as he watched the officer go through his things. “Mind if I put on a sweatshirt, it’s freezing?” The officer looked up at him. Max thought for a minute he was going to say no. “Okay, but don’t touch anything else. You sure you don’t have any drugs in here? If I find something, it won’t be good for you if you don’t say. It will go down as conspiracy.” Max wondered what the fuck he was talking about. “There’s nothing. Really, we don’t do drugs. We’re into health foods and stuff.” “And stuff... I can see that,” he replied looking at the bed. Max shivered involuntarily, but remained silent. Finally, the search seemed over and the officer accompanied him back to the kitchen. Then Aeriol came in with the other policeman. “Clean,” the first officer announced. “Nothing upstairs,” the second officer added. The radio came alive again. All three of them heard the conversation this time, or at least one side of it. “No, we won’t need the dog. Nothing here. Just finishing up.” The senior officer pressed a button to silence the radio. “This address was listed, along with other addresses, in a note book found when we raided the Whole Food Corner Shop. That’s why we’re here. Gavin Jameson, the owner of the shop has been arrested on drugs charges and he said when being interviewed that he knew you.” The officer looked at each of them. “Yeah he does,” Max spoke up. “I mean we sometimes cook some food for the shop to sell. You know, like biscuits, cakes, veggie pasties.” “Why do you think your address was in that book?” “Because like I said...” The officer interrupted Max. “Alright, let’s wake up you friend in the lounge.” Max accompanied by the senior officer headed to the lounge. He knocked on the door, but got no reply. When he went to open the door, it was locked. “He's locked the door.” Max explained apologetically. The officer leant around and tried the door handle. Then banged loudly on the door. “Open the door, this is the police.” It took a minute or so and more banging on the door before Jules unlocked it and let them in. The other two officers were called to help. Jules was asked his name, if he had any drugs, if he lived here. The room was quickly searched along with Jules bag. Seemingly satisfied the officers left. The senior police officer handed Max a card before going. “If you learn of anything, or think there is something we should know, something that might be important, then telephone this number.” And with that they left. “What was that all about?” Jules asked. Max explained what had happened, the book with their address, the arrest of Gavin. Then he excused himself saying he was going to go get dressed. What he needed was a long hot bath. Jules went back to bed, it was still only half past eight in the morning. Max joined Alex and Aeriol in the kitchen. Aeriol smiled at Max, “You know the guy searching upstairs opened the attic door, took one look at all the junk in there and shut the door.” “So what?” Max asked. “Well actually all those cannabis plants are in there drying. The ones we harvested from the dump. The ones you, me and Jules planted.” Max was speechless. Alex looked just as shocked. “You mean there’s drugs in your attic?” “Yes Alex, exactly.” “I’m getting my stuff and going home.” Max looked at him, “I’ll see you again?” Alex didn’t reply to that. He went to the bedroom collected his gear and left. “You can never count on anyone Max,” Aeriol stood up and went over to fill the kettle. “Want a coffee?” “Yeah,” Max said rather despondently. “Not including me Max. You can always count on me.” “Maybe that’s true. Despite your ego and terrible driving.” “Hey that’s not fair!” Aeriol came over and wrapped both arms around Max’s shoulders, ruffled his hair, then leant over and kissed him on the lips. Max smiled and the kettle whistled. ÷÷÷÷÷÷ “Max!... Max!” He heard Aeriol shouting but didn't want to answer. He preferred to ignore him and stay lying on his bed. “Wait a minute. He’s here, I’ll get him.” Aeriol put the phone aside and marched down the hall to Max’s bedroom. “Stop playing with yourself, Reuben's on the phone, he wants to talk to you.” Reluctantly Max swung his legs off the bed and got up. “Reuben, hi.” “Max I wanted to ask you if you’d come over.” “I don’t know. I’m kinda busy.” “Really? Aeriol said you were just moping around in your bedroom.” “He should mind his own business.” “Come over. I’m going to America very soon. Everything’s arranged. It might be the last time I get to see you.” “Yeah, I guess.” “That’s a yes then?” “Yeah, alright.” “You wanna get here for about six?” “I don’t know. What’s the time now?” “It’s quarter past three.” “Mmm, okay then. Six.” “See you later.” Max hung up the phone and brushed a hand across his face, rubbing his eyes. He poked his head into the front room. Jules and Aeriol were talking. Woodstock was playing on the stereo: “And I feel myself a cog in somethin' turning, and maybe it's the time of year, yes and maybe it's the time of man, and I don't know who I am, but life is for learning...” “I’m going round to see Reuben in awhile. I’ll see you later if you’re still here.” They both turned and nodded. “Okay, later” Aeriol turned back to Jules. He heard them talking as he closed the door. ÷÷÷÷÷÷ Max rang the doorbell. It was just after half past five, he was early. Reuben answered. “You’re early,” he smiled. “Come in.” Max stepped inside and waited for Reuben to close the front door. Then he followed him along the hall. “We’re in my bedroom.” Max had never been in Reuben's bedroom, and who were the we he was referring to? Reuben walked over and sat down on his bed next to a skinny young guy in t-shirt and jeans. “This is Davy,” Reuben nodded towards the boy. “Davy... Hi,” Max looked around for somewhere to sit. Davy looked at him briefly, then quickly looked away. “I guess I got here too early,” Max was still standing, walking around the room, looking at things. “Let’s go into the lounge, there's more room,” Reuben got up. Max followed the two of them to the lounge, he felt like he’d interrupted something, but at the same time he was pleased to finally meet this Davy kid. Even if it was at the moment Reuben was about to leave for America and he’d probably never see him again. Taking a seat in the lounge, he smiled at Davy. “So what do you do?” An innocent enough question, but to which he got a brusque reply. “I’m at school.” He thought Davy was being rather defensive. Davy turned to Reuben, “I think I better go.” “Really?” Reuben seemed a little sad. “Can’t you stay a bit longer?” “No, sorry.” Davy stood up and glanced at Max. “Nice to have met you.” That was probably one of the most insincere remarks that Max had received in quite awhile. Yet there was something in Davy's eyes, a kind of sadness, the same emotion that hovered over Reuben like a cloud. “I’ll see you out.” Reuben accompanied him to the door. Max didn’t hear their conversation, only the front door closing. He felt invaded by unhappiness, a gloomy despair. It had started with Alex leaving after the raid and continued here with Reuben's imminent departure and the look in Davy's eyes. Reuben came back and sat down next to Max. “I’ll miss him,” Reuben announced. Max didn't know what to say. He could easily relate to Reuben's emotions, he felt the same. He felt empty, to the point that he too would miss a boy he’d never get to know, he'd miss Reuben, a guy he had become close to even without any sex. A relationship that hadn’t really started. Alex was gone too. Max felt so depressed he could feel his eyes watering up. He buried his head in his hands, any minute he would burst into floods of tears. Reuben put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. They stayed like that for ages. “You want some tea?” Reuben asked, and Max actually smiled. “Sure, that'll be nice.” Reuben went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Max sat there, thinking. When he came back in, Reuben handed one mug to Max and sat back down next to him. “No sugar right?” Max managed a weak smile and nodded, “Right.” Silence engulfed them, neither one seemed capable of speech, they sat, drinking the tea. “Can I ask you something!” Max looked up from staring at his mug of tea. “You can ask. What?” “You and Davy. What exactly did the two of you do together?” Maybe that was too personal to ask, he hadn’t known Reuben very long, they weren't lovers, but he had to know. It somehow irked to not know. Reuben looked like he was contemplating the question. “Well I already told you what I’m not into. I don’t think I want to give you all the detail. But we were loving in a special way. We embraced, I would run my fingers over his skin, lightly, delicately touching him.” Reuben fell silent. Max sipped his tea. He didn’t want to ask anymore. He had an image of the boy naked or mostly naked, being touched and aroused. It only served to make him feel more depressed, it didn’t even make him hard, just sad. It was only half past six, but Max felt he had to leave, he needed to get out, to feel the cold outside air on his face. “I’m sorry,” Reuben told him as he stood up to leave. “About what?” “That I couldn't give you what you wanted.” Max studied him, “it’s how it is, not your fault.” Reuben watched Max walk away down the road. It was almost dark. Max didn’t look back, he couldn’t, tears wet his face, hidden only by the fading light. 《《《 》》》
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    New Members Welcome-Introduce Yourself!

    I want to say thank you for such a fantastic welcome, a special thanks to @Marty for taking time to read and comment. I really am overwhelmed after having either been ignored or gotten negative comments (I don't mind that not everyone likes what I write and I know it's far from perfect, but if you get told to go away and come back when you've learnt how to write, that's very discouraging) that here on this site you have all welcomed me with open arms. What more could anyone want, thank you, all of you.
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    Chapter Four - Om Namah Shivaya.

    It's great that you relate to the story and it sparks memories, because that means it comes across, at least in part, as real, and it is meant to be, fiction grounded in reality (from the last century... lol!).
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    Chapter One - The Boys.

    Thank you, thank you, so much. That was exactly what I was hoping to achieve, I'm so pleased it worked for you (obviously I liked the dialogue intro myself, but I have to confess having been told by others, not on this site, to go away and come back when I'd learnt how to write, your comment gives me real encouragement).
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    New Members Welcome-Introduce Yourself!

    Hello fellow members and aficionados of gay fiction, I am a new author (would be writer perhaps, as I'm not published and don't have much of a following) who joined the site to post my own effort at a story (and get some comments/feedback). I am also a reader and have read a lot on this site and lots of other sites. I probably read more than I write, but I do like writing. I have one difficulty (handicap perhaps, vis a vis being a member) which is I do not get online and onto this site very frequently, but when I am here I do my best to be apart of it and reply to people (I can always be contacted by email). Best, Tal. talo.segura.x@gmail.com
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    I am only a little Gypsy 1 - Reincarnation, does it exist?

    I am nine chapters in and thought it time to mention that this story is UNIQUE. Tell me if you've ever read a book from a baby's point of view, from the womb to birth and his early years. It is wonderfully described, whilst remaining a fictional story which includes reincarnation and telepathy. Somehow it keeps you gripped, maybe because, in part, it actually reminds you of everything you have forgotten about your very earliest view on the world.
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    Harry Anders and Steven Keiths

    A while back @droughtquake posted the question: why don’t readers comment on stories? This blog is not an answer to that question, but was inspired by the forum post. This website is an archive of authors work going back almost a generation. It is also unique in giving you the ability to search that archive using many and varied criteria. And that is how I became an explorer, travelling the dusty shelves to seek out those long forgotten books. The site itself has nothing very much about its history or the lives of its authors and founders, but it offers up a rather unmissable chance to wander through its repository. I started my journey using some simple criteria revolving around stories without comments. I found a number, some thirty-eight stories of over twenty thousand words (a novella) with no comments. Perhaps, more surprising, there were stories of over one hundred thousand words with hardly a comment, just one comment and reply from the author Harry Anders on his books, the Gypsy Chronicles. My curiosity was piqued, and a little further investigation revealed the biography of this retired Dutch psychotherapist who published this lost work which perhaps first appeared here on GA, his own website has long since disappeared. I doubt anyone goes on to publish a book without a readership. That assumption is supported by the write up on the bookshop site, it reads: This emotional rollercoaster hints at past lives, spirit helpers, karma, the power of love, and contains several practical psychological concepts. The story is written by a Dutch psychotherapist, specialized in dealing with problem children. "This was Jack's house, and Harry used to be here all the time. Now he is devastated, and he cries every day because he misses his big friend. Please, sir, will you try to be nice to him and not chase him away? He misses Jack a lot, and we all like him very much..." The few reader comments quoted are not from this site: Your insight is far beyond the common man. A believable story of love, great to read. So much compassion and love...You have put me through the emotional rollercoaster. A wonderful story. Deep and proper, a masterpiece in its genre. It has brought many tears to my eyes. You will find the story here on GA: https://gayauthors.org/author/gypsychronicles/ only the first book is complete and the paperback on this site: https://www.bol.com/nl/f/little-harry/33793816/#product_specifications This really is just one interesting discovery amongst what might be many. I stumbled across another book, easily lost in the archive, because it was never marked complete and is thus confined to the void of novels forever in process, and never to be discovered by those of us who like to read a finished work. One Moonlit Night by Steven Keiths was written back in 2011, at twenty-six chapters and over one hundred thousand words, it sits on the shelves with one comment: I found your story today, and just can't stop reading it. I'm up to chapter 14 and have loved every moment! Keep up the great work! You have to actually click on the last chapter to realise that chapter twenty-six is the Epilogue, consequently, the book has I’m sure remained hidden. And what of the author? He was with GA for just over three years and disappeared from the site in March 2011. In the same year he had a story published, Folding Sheets, as part of a gay anthology produced by AwesomeDude: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Midnight-Dude-Selected-Readings-AwesomeDude/dp/1466345640 He has other short stories and flash fiction which appear on that site: http://awesomedude.com/stevenkeiths/ Now I’ve only touched the surface and I hope to come back and blog some more, but I also want to take time out to read what I have discovered. If you are inspired, or perhaps, you might know more about these books or their authors, then do please comment here. You can also add your reader comments on the books if you decided to read, and perhaps if a site Administrator reads this, they might like to re-classify One Moonlit Night as complete.
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    Yes, that works 😁 Still think the Green WOW looks like a crazy bird and the blue SAD like a blue nose 🤣🤣
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    Chapter Four - Om Namah Shivaya.

    Max and Jules were sitting in the back of Aeriol's Citroen Dyane heading into town. He'd switched on the radio, but quickly changed his mind and popped in a cassette. They followed the early afternoon traffic, listening to symbols clashing, drumming, and a sort of melodic chanting, only disrupted by Aeriol crunching the gears and swearing. “Is he really that good looking?” Jules whispered conspiratorially. Max smiled, “You’ll see for yourself. If he’s coming.” “You been before?” “To an Ashram?” “Yeah.” “No never.” The chanting had reached fever pitch and was repeating like a needle stuck on the turntable. Aeriol was tapping his hands on the steering wheel in time with the rhythm. A screech and jolt as he slammed the breaks and swore. Aeriol was not a good driver. He lacked concentration and everything was everybody else’s fault. It was like he expected a clear road just for himself. Of course the car had that spongy soft suspension renowned of French cars and rolled around corners like riding across waves. You could say the whole experience was rather stressful. “Meditation!” Aeriol exclaimed. “Clears your mind.” That he had to see. Max was so far from imagining Aeriol sitting cross legged and meditating that he honestly wondered if this wasn’t one huge joke. They rolled into the kerb, jolted to a halt. Someone behind sounded a horn. “Stay here. I’m gonna get Chester. Back in a minute.” “Is he gay?” Jules spoke normally now there was just the two of them. “You seem very interested in Michael?” “Just curious.” “Yeah? Well, I have no idea. Anyway what if?” “Nothing.” Jules was looking through the window at the passers by. “And you?” Max asked. “What? What about me?” “Are you... gay?” ÷÷÷÷÷ Chester lived in one of those old buildings that looked like a tenement block. No lift, the stairs outside led to all floors and a covered external walkway that did the tour of the building. It was typical of post war construction, but which war? Aeriol climbed up to the third floor, turned left, number thirty-three. He rang the bell. “Aeriol!” Chester beamed. “You want to come in.” He hesitated, thinking for a second about the badly parked car, but what the hell. If he got a ticket, he never paid them anyway. He stepped inside. Followed Chester along the corridor to the tiny kitchen diner. “Hi,” he nodded at the disinterested thirteen year old sitting at the table. There was no response. “Don’t mind him. Take a seat.” Aeriol slid onto the bench seat that stretched one side of the length of the table. “You better get your jacket,” Chester told his son. “We're not hanging around.” Aeriol watched the boy get up and walk around the table. “He’s upset about going to the ashram.” “Why don’t you leave him here then?” Chester grinned. “I need to keep an eye on him, that’s why. There’s no one home this afternoon. Besides it won’t do him any harm. Gets him out of the house.” Michael was standing in the doorway, maroon bomber jacket ballooning his torso making his legs look even thinner. “Okay, let’s go.” Aeriol stood up and followed Michael out of the apartment. Chester took the passenger seat next to Aeriol and Michael squeezed in next to Max and Jules on the bench seat at the rear. “Hi Ches,” Max greeted the man as he closed the passenger door. Chester turned and smiled back, “Max, Jules, how’s things?” “Good,” they answered in unison and started laughing. Aeriol started the motor, crunched into gear and pulled out into the traffic to the sound of more screeching brakes and horns. Did he even look in the rear view mirror or indicate? Probably not. Michael started doing acrobatic contortionism. His arms going everywhere and his body knocking into Max. “It's too hot in here,” he struggled to remover his jacket. Max was enjoying the show, the complaints, and especially the bodily contact. Another screech and jolt as they stopped at lights, Michael finally got his jacket off, but not before falling half across Max. “Better now?” Max grinned at Michael only to receive a surly frown. The rest of the journey passed without much conversation. It was like a preamble to what was to follow. There was at least an hour's chanting on the cassette and it wasn’t that long a drive. The suburbs soon engulfed them in rows of identical terraced houses with tiny front gardens each with a hedge or wall and little gate. These gave way to tree lined avenues with larger semi-detached homes, looking much more impressive, but not as grand as the large detached house in the street they just entered. Aeriol pulled up to a halt in front of one such beast. Set back from the road by a large lawned garden adorned by a giant oak tree whose branches spread out in all directions and whose trunk was thick and solid. That tree must have stood there before ever the house was built, maybe two hundred or two hundred and fifty years old. “Let’s go guys,” Aeriol killed the engine and stepped out into the street. Standing there looking at the house, Max and Jules both admired the architecture. This was suburban England in all its glory. “This is it?” Max asked somewhat in awe. Chester turned, “Yeah, impressive old house, huh?” “Not how I imagined an ashram,” Jules was still standing looking. “Well, this isn’t India,” Aeriol started up the path towards the equally imposing front door. Michael didn’t know what all the fuss was about, he followed directly after Aeriol. Once inside they exited a large hall through double panelled wooden doors into a huge reception room. Enormous bay windows looked out across the front lawn towards the oak tree. People were busy placing chairs in rows. Others were bringing in plates and dishes to put on trestle tables arranged down one side. At the opposite end of the room was a table adorned with flowers and fruit. A picture of an Indian guy in multi-coloured robes and wearing a bright scarf and woolly hat, took centre place. The smiling, chubby face, peeked through a silver grey beard and moustache, in one hand he held beads like a rosary, his other hand rested in his lap the forefinger and thumb forming a circle. “That’s Babaji ,” a voice spoke next Jules. He turned to see a girl about his age, slim, with long brown hair tied with a coloured ribbon, dressed in those tie dyed fabrics that in some way epitomized the sub-continent. He stared at her a moment before returning his gaze to the picture. “Babaji?” “Our guru,” she smiled politely. Somehow he got the impression that she was talking to him like you address very young children, but he didn't mind. Jules was drawn to the colourful image on the white clothed table just as he was mesmerized by the voice beside him. “I’m Jules,” he returned the smile, looking at her again. “Sajani, it means beloved, loving, or well loved. “That’s not your real name?” He knew as soon as he had spoken the words that perhaps that was not the right thing to say. But Sajani continued smiling and reached out to take his hand, just like a mother and child. “We receive a new name when we accept Babaji as our guru,” Her face was radiant, he felt transported, at least he was happy to be led by her towards the altar. “Looks like Jules got off,” Michael poked Max in the side. “Huh?” He was confused, this was the most the youngster had said since they picked him and Chester up. Anyway, what was he talking about? “Look idiot. Over there.” Max looked in the direction Michael indicated and sure enough Jules looked engrossed in the company of a not unpleasant looking girl. “Well, well. I never believed he was gay, maybe, no.” He said that before he realised he was in the company of Michael. The boy just grinned. “I’ve always liked you.” Michael suddenly revealed. “Really? Why's that?” “Because you don’t treat me like a kid and you talk to me like anybody else.” “You mean like anybody else my own age.” “Yeah.” “Well actually Michael, I forgot you was there.” “Oh yeah! Like you forgot I was sitting next to you in the car on the way over.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You were pressing you leg against mine.” “It's a small car.” “You like me, don't you?” “Yes Michael, I like you. But I’m not sure me liking you means what you might think it means.” “Are you...” Michael moved right up close to Max and whispered, “gay?” What the fuck? Now he was in a predicament. How the hell should he answer. He had always told himself he wouldn’t ever lie. If someone asked, he’d straight up tell them. But this was different. He didn’t want to give out the wrong signals. “I know you are. You don’t even need to say anything.” “Okay then, if you know, I won’t say anything.” That was a nice way out of a difficult situation. “Are you two gonna help, or just stand around?” Aeriol interrupted them. “Just stand around,” Michael replied. “You wanna smack kid?” “You wouldn’t dare. My dad’s just there.” Michael looked over to where Chester was lifting some chairs from one of the stacks. Aeriol turned away and went across to help. “I think it would be nice if you joined in a bit and helped,” Max smiled tentatively. “I think it would be nice if you sucked my cock!” Max didn't reply, he glowered at the teenager, turned away and left Michael standing alone. He was angry with the boy. At that moment he thought Aeriol was right. The kid had a wicked mouth and could do with a slap, but that was Chester's job, not his. There were a wide variety of people all busily helping, but it was mostly the Indian ladies who were carrying in the food. It smelt, spicy, and good. Max felt a rumbling in his stomach. It was not long before all the food dishes were set out and all the chairs arranged in neat rows. Now people started taking their places and pretty soon every chair was taken and there were four or five rows of people sitting on the floor in front of the table with Babaji's photo. At precisely four o’clock someone rang a little bell. Then the singing, or rather chanting, began. It was a combination of both, chanting in a sing song fashion. Om Namah Shivaaya, Om Namah Shivaaya, Shivaaya namaha om, Shivaaya namah om, Om Namah Shivaaya, Om Namah Shivaaya, Shivaaya namaha om, Shivaaya namah om, Om Na..mah Shi..vaaya, Om Na..mah Shi..vaaya, Om Na..mah Shi..vaaya, Om Na..mah Shi..vaaya, Shi...vaaya na..mah om, Shi...vaaya na..mah om... The chanting cycled through repeated phrases, building in tempo, subsiding, and building again. If you could imagine fifty or sixty people all chanting to the same rhythm, reaching a crescendo, then descending, the ebb and flow like waves reverberating, the whole effect was intoxicating. ÷÷÷÷÷÷ “The food was great,” Jules announced as they arrived back. “And the company too,” Max suggested. “Yeah Jules, what was her name?” Aeriol closed the front door. “Sajani!” Jules turned into the kitchen. “Anyone want some tea?” “I want a smoke, but I’ll have some tea if you’re making it.” Aeriol sat down at the table and opened the old tobacco tin where he kept his stash. “Yeah sounds good Jules,” Max joined Aeriol at the table. “You seeing her again?” Aeriol asked. “Maybe, if we go there again.” “I’m up for that. If you’re going count me in.” “Om namah fucking shivaaya!” Aeriol had licked the papers together, lined them with tobacco, and was crumbling in the resin. Jules poured the tea. Max watched as Aeriol niftily rolled the joint, brought it to his lips, lit it up, and inhaled. He passed it to Max. “Fuck that’s good.” Max took a couple of tokes and passed it on. When it was back with Aeriol he stared at Max. “What’s up with you and Michael?” Max hesitated, he wondered exactly what Aeriol meant. “Nothing. Just sometimes the kid gets up my nose.” “I know what you mean,” Aeriol leaned forward to hand over the joint. “I could really smack the little git sometimes.” Max didn’t reply, he was smoking the joint. “And Jules babe. I guess you don’t want me to fuck you anymore. You’ve turned straight!” Jules handed Aeriol the end of the joint. “Did I ever want you to fuck me?” Jules frowned. “Whatever. Let’s go next door and listen to some real music. I’m fucking stoned,” Aeriol stood up laughing. &&&
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    Chapter 3- That's a kiss?

    Three chapters in and I've liked them all, that is the story, but you need to correct the writing, read through it. You've got autocorrect putting in wrong words and I have to re-write it in my head as I'm reading. The story is great, really good!
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    Okay thanks, but the hovering over doesn't work on a phone.

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