The visa was a problem. He'd entered Australia as a tourist. He wasn't supposed to work, and he knew that if they found out that he'd done that, that he would be expelled from the country and might never be permitted to return. If he wanted to stay permanently he would either have to apply for permanent residence or marry an Ozzie. He didn't think they accepted gay marriage in Australia. He could marry a woman. He'd had his share of girlfriends. But after what had happened, he didn't want any more pretence or lies. He was mostly gay. He didn't want to hurt any woman by pretending otherwise, just to get a visa. And he'd read somewhere that the Australian immigration office checked up on married couples to see if they really were married, because there'd been so many scams. He wondered how they did it. Naturally, they couldn't go into their bedroom to see whether they were actually fucking. He laughed to himself at this idea, and wondered what they'd make of his parents, who slept in separate bedrooms.
No comments:
Post a Comment