Because Blogger's "Adult warning" often goes into a perpetual loop (isn't working properly), I will be making all new posts at my WordPress blog. You can follow it even if you do not have a WordPress Account. There're also my Twitter and my Tumblr blog, my Facebook and my Google+ page and my group.
(Update: Blogger hasn't fixed its problem with the "adult warning". Will go back to posting at my WordPress blog)

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Majorca Flats -- 103

Graeme's house was one of the grander ones in the street. It was double storeyed, with a two metre wall out the front, covered with climbing roses and jasmine, and a wonderful wooden gate, carved with Celtic designs. Inside there was a small patch of lawn with narrow flowerbeds filled with thickly-massed and pruned lavender, penstemons, irises and other flowers Jason didn't recognise. There'd been a buzzer at the gate, and Graeme was waiting for him, his face solemn but his eyes smiling.
Come in!”
The house was filled with the smells of garlic, tomatoes, onion and other savoury odours Jason couldn't separate from each other.
A glass of wine?”
I'd love that. Thank you!” Jason felt suddenly a little uncomfortable. He didn't want to have sex with Graeme. He felt a strong bond to the other man, but he couldn't set aside his grief, his memories like that. It was almost as if he could have anonymous sex, but not loving sex, and he knew in his heart that anonymous sex would just make him feel hollow and dissatisfied afterwards and so he couldn’t do it. And loving sex was out of the question.
White or red?” asked Graeme, turning away from Jason towards an antique table where there were glasses set out with a few bottles of wine and liqueurs.
[Image from the ABC

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