Showing posts with label gay bookshop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gay bookshop. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Majorca Flats -- 129


Keith's flat was large—the whole top floor of a weathered Victorian house just a couple of hundred yards from The Lord Grey. Jason wondered why he'd never come here before, and then realised that Keith was trying as hard as he to make their relationship work, and he hadn't wanted to push it when Jason had turned down sex with him. The flat was furnished with just a king-sized bed, a coffee table and in a very 70s touch, bean bags. Except for books. Everywhere Jason looked there were piles of books or bookcases made from planks, held up by bricks, stuffed with books. Ouch! he thought to himself, judging people by appearances again! Keith was obviously a lot deeper than his barman persona at work — and his past as a rent-boy — made him seem.
Some more brandy?” asked Keith. “Maybe some tea, too?”
Luigi and Jason both nodded, and while Keith was busy in the kitchen slumped into two of the bean bags. Keith returned with steaming mugs, brandy snifters and a bottle of brandy.
It's green tea. Watch out — it's hot. Don't burn yourselves!”



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Majorca Flats Episodes 1 to 10           Majorca Flats Episodes 61 to 70
Majorca Flats Episodes 11 to 20         Majorca Flats Episodes 71 to 80
Majorca Flats Episodes 21 to 30         Majorca Flats Episodes 81 to 90
Majorca Flats Episodes 31 to 40         Majorca Flats Episodes 91 to 100
Majorca Flats Episodes 41 to 50         Majorca Flats Episodes 101 to 110   
Majorca Flats Episodes 51 to 60         Majorca Flats Episodes 111 to 120  

Friday, February 4, 2011

Majorca Flats -- 59

Hares & Hyenas, Melbourne's premier GLBT bookshop
He caught the same number tram back to the stop where he'd boarded it, pleased that he managed to find his way round the city by himself. He decided to explore more of his suburb on foot, because he knew that was the best way to get the feel of a place. He found a gay bookshop and a gay second-hand bookshop and at the latter he bought some paperbacks. At a little café, he sat outside in the sun, and ordered bruschetta* with chopped tomato, and a caffè latte. He hadn't a lot of money, he knew that. And the meal cost him nearly an hour's pay. But he decided it was important to indulge himself occasionally. And sitting there under a giant parasol, with the passing traffic of people in various shapes and sizes and colours, sipping at his latte and enjoying the rich profusion of flavours and textures in the bruschetta : crisp savoury bread, sweet tomato, rich fresh onion, basil, olive oil and black pepper, he felt rich indeed, and for the first time since he'd seen Brent's body, for a few minutes the sharp teeth of grief and remorse stopped biting into him.

*pronounced, just in case you didn't know, broosKETTa.