Let Me Go (warning: contains adult situations)

     Sebastian was alert to synchronicity enough to understand the meaning of all green lights from Ursula’s home in the Quarter to his home in the Garden District. The Universe was telling him to go for it; being with CJ was  the right thing to do. His reverie ended when CJ stopped in front of Sebastian’s house.
     “Aren’t you coming in?”
     “Do you want me to?”
     “Of course I do, but you shouldn’t park here. Go around the corner. There’s a driveway off the alley. You car will be safer there.”
     “And out of the neighbors’ sight, Sebastian?”
     “You’re crazy, boy! Just drive around the corner and park in my driveway like you’re told,” Sebastian joked.
     “Yessir, Mister Stephens,” CJ replied with a military salute. He then followed directions and turned off the engine.
     “We can go in through the garden. It’s one of my favorite rooms of the house,” Sebastian explained as he opened the gate in the wooden privacy fence for his guest. “I always leave the garden lights on while I’m in town. I relish the ethereal ambience of the night garden.”
     “I see what you mean, Sebastian. It is quite beautiful.”
     We can sit outside for a while if you want to.”
     “Beautiful as it is, I think we better go indoors.”
     “The only thing about coming in this way is that we enter the house through the kitchen. I hope you don’t mind. We can, of course, walk around the side of the house and go in from the front, if you prefer.”
     “This is fine, Sebastian. I can go in from the back; no problem.”
     “You’re a lot like you aunt, you know that?”
     “I don’t follow you.”
     “Nevermind.”
     “Hey, whats with this zigzag cut in the lawn here?”
     “I’ve never known. Whatever it was happened when I was living in New York after college. They never did find out any reason for it. Sometimes with heavy due, it catches the light and looks like it’s portal to somewhere I don’t want to go. Let’s go inside.”
     Sebastian unlocked the door and turned on lights as prepared to lead  the way through the house.  
     “Would you like the deluxe tour, or would you prefer to just go upstairs and save the rest of this for morning?”
     CJ flashed a wicked smile. “How long’s the tour?” he inquired.
     “About three hours,” Sebastian answered. “There are a lot of things to see. Each and every item has a story.”
     “I’m getting sleepy,” CJ countered. “Would you mind if we postponed to tomorrow sometime?”
     “Not at all. Tired, Old man?”
     “Just of standing when I could be laying down next to you.”
     “Then let’s get you upstairs and tucked in,” Sebastian playfully replied and swatted CJ’s behind.
CJ grabbed Sebastian’s wrist. “So you wanna play rough? I had you figured for candle light and soft music.”
     Sebastian laughed. “I had you pegged for a bottom, so what do you think of that Mr. Leatherneck?”
     “I’ll show you who’s a bottom,” and CJ scooped Sebastian up in his arms, kissed him fully and deeply on the mouth and headed upstairs.
     One door was ajar, revealing soft light inside. The bed was turned down as though waiting to be occupied.  “CJ, put me down, please.”
     “On the bed?’
     “No. Just put me down.
     Sebastian entered the room with a good degree of hesitation. The lamps had been adjusted to their present glow by the rheostat control. “What’s the matter, Sebastian?” CJ asked.
     “Nothing. It’s just this isn’t the right room for tonight.”
He glanced into the mirrored door on the chifferobe. Standing shirtless and barefoot in a pair of jeans was Sean, his lover who was recently killed in New York. When he saw Sebastian had company, he place his hands on  his hips in disappointment. Before CJ had a chance to notice, Sebastian turned off the lights using the switch by the door and gently pushed CJ out into the hall.
     “I think we’ll be more comfortable over here.” Sebastian turned on the light and slowly walked into the room. Just as he remembered, there were no mirrors in this room. He turned on the light in the adjoing bathroom. And turned the water on in the shower. “I think I need a shower before I go to bed,” Sebastian explained. “Care to join me?”
     CJ did not need to be asked twice. He immediately pulled off his sweater and started to unbutton Sebastian’s shirt, kissing him playfully as he went along. Belts were unbuckled at the same time and pants were down. The two were soon under spraying water and soap lather, touching and rubbing, becoming familiar. Their fingers and hands memorized crevices and ripples of muscle patches and sinew with the sensitive intensity of the blind. Aware, too, of patches of hair and the different textures of it, following its trails. Where lather rinsed away, there was also tasting, kissing and biting. Stallions testing each other, habituating.
     Drying off was subtle and tender. “Great towels, Sebastian.” Each paying attention to dry every centimeter of the other man’s body.
     “Leave them on the floor,” Sebastian instructed as he took CJ hand to lead him back into the bedroom. He pulled the bedspread off and rolled it before casually tossing it into a plush upholstered chair in the corner of the room. CJ then pulled Sebastian down to the bed, on top of the sheet and pinned him on his back. They continued to kiss, occasionally biting a lip, nuzzling into a necks and nipping at an earlobe. Their entire bodies were heated and wet. This time from perspiration. Their members were engorged and throbbing, aching for release.
     Sebastian caught enough breath to gasp, “In the nightstand drawer.” CJ required no further explanation and reached for a condom and slipped it on. Instantly, CJ was exactly where he wanted to be. He rested Sebastian’s legs over his shoulders and began to move his own hips in long, slow thrusts.
     Sebastian inhaled sharply but softly. The only sound he made other than sighs of satisfaction. Still conjoined, CJ rounded his shoulder so that he could take Sebastian’s penis in his mouth. Just the warmth of CJ’s mouth sent shivers up Sebastian’s spine. Couple with the slow strokes elsewhere sent Sebastian into rapture. He whimpered his pleasure. CJ picked up the pace and soon they climaxed at the same time. —Another omen Sebastian would remember.
     CJ laid on top of Sebastian, holding him in his arms and in the afterglow of their passion. After a few minutes he went to the bathroom where he took care of the used condom. He returned to the bed with a warm damp washcloth for Sebastian, cleaning him with the masculine tenderness of a lion for his cub. As far as Sebastian was concerned this pretty much sealed the deal.
     Suddenly, they heard breaking glass. Sebastian jumped up and with CJ close behind, they rushed to the other bedroom. Sebastian didn’t really need to turn on the light to know what had happened. Splinters of mirror reflected the moonlight. CJ reached in and turned on the light. The mirror in the chifferobe had shattered, exploded really, sending splinters all over the room.
     “What the fuck happened, Sebastian?”
     Sebastian looked at the remaining chunks of mirror still in situ. He saw bare feet pointed at him and could imagine the rest of the imagine. “I can’t imagine why this happened, CJ, but let’s just close the door on it for tonight. I’ll get someone in here to clean this up and replace the mirror in the morning.”
     Sebastian turned off the light, closed the door and walked back to the bedroom he and CJ had just vacated.
     “Do you want me to stay with you, Sebastian?”
     “I was counting on it, Big Guy.  Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s now going to be a bigger day than I thought.”
     They got back into bed, under the sheet this time, from opposite sides. They met in the middle in a perfect spoon position. CJ draped his arm over Sebastian. CJ was powerfully built and Sebastian loved the feel of his arm holding him. He wished he felt safe. He knew neither of them were.

from the upcoming novel Jokers and One-Eyed Jacks
copyright 2013 M. Daniel Nickle

Deja Vu 1984

     In 1949 George Orwell's novel 1984 was a futuristic depiction of a world in perpetual war, inescapable government surveillance, and public mind control. He created an international world ruled by the Inner Party Elite. A group who didn't let facts get in the way of agenda. History was re-written to support policy and doctrine. The new media was slanted to promote and protect the good of the people. Truth be damned. Food production followed strict guidelines under the guise of a true friend of government, like Monsanto for example.

     Words and terms coined by Mr. Orwell have become standard in today's lexicon. Do Big Brother, doublethink, Newspeak, memory hole ring any bells?

     The year 1984 is now history, but Orwell's novel was still listed as number 8 in the 2003 BBC survey The Big Read. This means that for a good number of people, the conditions Orwell wrote about are deja vu experiences in today's world. Perhaps Orwell wasn't the writer of fiction we have always supposed. Perhaps he was actually a time travelling reporter who endeavored to warn us. 

Magical Living

     Magical living is living fully aware in the moment. It requires openness and patience. Unlike it's cousin magical thinking, there is no regret, no what if's. 

     I was given a reminder of this today. I visited a showroom to which I have applied for positions twice with no result. The second time there was almost a result. Two different people in the company left voicemail messages for me. When I returned their calls, I also ended up leaving voicemail messages. In one, I said I would call again the next morning. I followed through and once again left a voicemail message. My calls were never returned and that was that. Almost. The loss of interest after my calls nagged at me. This company has again posted a position open, but I didn't respond to it this time. Instead, this time I visited the showroom. This time my question to the Universe as to why I didn't get further into the interview process was answered.

     Everything about the place was grey and beige. Lifeless. I encountered two employees. One asked if I was looking for anything in particular. I wasn't. The follow-up was the usual non-professional instruction to let me know if you have any questions. The second employee was sitting at a different table with a laptop. He never looked up to acknowledge my presence by saying hello. 

     The decision to not proceed with an interview I now know was the correct one. I get excited about what I'm selling. I like to engage people in conversation, to learn about them. I would certainly think someone working in a small showroom without any form of security would be interesting in anyone entering the premises. That would be in the recesses of my mind, but foremost to me would be the thought that here is someone new to talk to. I say the decision made about me was the correct one because, I would not thrive in such an environment as it is. I could make several suggestions for improving the atmosphere there which in itself would create more business. I'll save my ideas, however, for fertile ground.

     The thing about magical living it that things happen. Magical people get magical results. Nothing paranormal here. It's just how things work.

     

Memory Study Yields Interesting Implications

     I recently read about a study on memory and it's triggers. It seems that forgetting what we were going to do when we walked into a new room, isn't a memory lapse. It turns out movement between rooms is a memory trigger. Passing through that threshold tells the brain that one activity has ended and a new one is about to begin. That's why retracing our steps helps us to recall our intention. Brilliant!

     Could this also apply to past and future lives? Could not the soul recognize the passing out of one existence into another the same way? Do butterflies remember their lives as a caterpillar? Why would they? Been there, done that, moving on seems to be right on so many levels. If only we could remember to learn the lesson, forget the hurt, and move on. For everything else we have Karma to loop us around.

Releasing My Inner Pitbull

     The dream scenario last night was a house, a cottage actually, on a large tract of land. I lived here with my female pitbull Dolly. It was early morning and I opened the door so Dolly could go out on her rounds. Whenever I didn't go out with her, rounds usually only took fifteen or twenty minutes. While she checked things out the outdoors, I sat down to my computer with a cup of coffee to check my inbox. When I returned to the kitchen for a second cup, I realized Dolly was still out and about. I grabbed a jacket and went out to find her. Dolly always came when I called, but there was no sight or sound of her. Concern was struggling to not morph into panic.

     I came to the woods at the edge of the property and called for Dolly again. This time I heard whimpering. I climbed over the split-rail fence and ran into the forest. Before long I came to a clearing and found Dolly. I called her and she sang out her joy at seeing me, but she remained sitting in place thumping her tail and pawing the ground. Someone had chained her to a stake!

     I ran up to her and immediately tried to disconnect the chain, first from her and then from the stake. She needed to be freed by whatever means. Nothing would budge. Dolly got quiet and that's when I heard snarling and teeth clacking. I turned to see a pack of wild dogs and a man who appeared to be their master. He looked as vicious as the dogs. I asked for his help, but he just laughed. "Who do you think staked her out in the first place? She's going to entertain my boys here for a while. You can watch or join in, but I'd advise you to step back."

     Dolly was going to die a terrible death. I began once again to try to release the collar or the chain that held Dolly. I prayed to Hecate, the goddess who rules with three dogs at her side. Nearby, I heard more growling, snarling and teeth clacking. However, this time it wasn't from the wild dogs but I couldn't see any dogs other than them and Dolly. The wild dogs charged, the man laughed, and Dolly growled in a voice I had never heard before. The wild dogs were hit in mid-air and fell to the ground. Suddenly Dolly was free and charged at the pack. The man had stopped laughing and was now running with his dogs away from us as hard as possible. I called Dolly back to me. She stopped. Looked back at me and then back to the fleeing man with his dogs. She decided to let them go, and came lolloping into my arms. I held her tight and rubbed her back as she smothered me with kisses. 

     In the distance there came a bright light, a man's desperate yell, the wails of scared dogs. Silence.

     

     Lesson: We are never without help. We are never in dire circumstances that cannot change. Bullies don't win unless we allow them.

     My personal take-away: someday when I am able to adopt a pitbull to share my home, I'm going to name her Dolly.

Insidious Creatures

     This weekend's U.S. box office figures report the film Insidious brought in $41M. Clearly the American public enjoys a good scare. Unfortunately for some, fear becomes a way of life that often results in death. 

     Cyber bullying continues to claim the lives of young people. A young girl in Florida jumped to her death after a year of abuse from fifteen female schoolmates. Other haters quickly took to Twitter to condemn the new Miss America because she is Indian decent. What's the point? Did they expect her to give up her crown?  The truth is there really isn't a point. 

     I call them the 'poison mushroom people.' PMP have prefered the anonymity of the internet to spew their poisonous spores, but the laws are changing. Like mushrooms, they can be found and identified.

     Why are these people to infused with hatred? Why do their victims consume these deadly fungi? There is a line in the film Perks of Being A Wallflower that says, "We accept the love we think we deserve." Why do people despise themselves so much that they act so maliciously toward someone else? Why can't the targets simply dismiss the messages as the b.s. they are, even in the presence of loving and supportive parents and families? This type of behavior is not a prank. Life is not a movie. Hate is not a good scare.       

     The why and wherefore comprises an insidious mystery to me, but all mysteries can be solved eventually. We owe it to the victims to expose and hold accountable the ugliness of bullying while helping the bullies to detox themselves. 

     

     

The Dreamer Dreams The Solution

     The other night during a storm the router supplied by the internet provider blew out. I found a better one in my price range and attempted to install it on my laptops and iPhone. I say attempted because the set page seemed to be on a continuous loop of 'error.' The sign-in and password previously used were only for the router I replaced. Nothing was working except my nerves. Since I have taken vacation time from work so I can write and hopefully finish my current novel, as well as tending to some personal issues, nerves were fraying. I finally decided to let it go. 

     When I went to sleep, I saw the solution to my dilemma in my dream. On waking I gathered the information I would need to provide to the cable company providing internet access and called tech support. As I saw in the dream, the problem wasn't with the new router, or even with me. The modem was only programmed for the land-line phone service. The former router was the only apparatus programmed for the internet. he man in tech support said he could transfer the internet access to the modem, but it would take a few minutes.  That was that. I am once again connected to the virtual world. I have internet, phone, and cellular service that is much faster than with the former router. Because I dreamed. Because I made a point to remember the dream and follow through. Once again dreams came to my rescue. I am happy. I am grateful. How can it get any better than this?