Bet you thought that I was gone for good.
This story is still mine. After all, and there aren't many stories about middle-class, abrosexual South African boys."Ris, where are you?" Sol was getting concerned over the phone as I ran through the park. It had been ages since I'd been there, and I had no idea were to start.
We agreed to meet at the McDonald's across the venue, and I was late.
You'd think that Sol would be used to it by now, me being late.I stood at the gate, my parent's behind me.
"I'm on my way, I'm just ... taking a detour."
"Oh my God, Ris."I didn't wanna blame his short fuse on him, he had been waiting a long bit. I took a deep breath.
The sun was beating, no whipping, against my dark clothes. The beach was behind me, my dad and his car too, and the park ahead of me.
I turned around to my dad.
"Hey, uh ... Could you drop me on the back gate instead?"...
I ended up at a gas station, waiting for my dad to fill up the car.
It was a regular gas station, with a bunch of gays, of course -- nothing could ever be so easy.
My dad walked past the window, almost sneering at the sight of rainbows, calling my mom to complain.I shuffled forward in the line, staring at the head of a really pretty girl.
She seemed definitely American, maybe Spanish -- Latina tourist? Her oval face was framed with short, mahogany brown hair, and smelled like warm biscuits in the oven .. but that was not the reason why I wanted to talk to her.
No, I wanted to asked her where she got her t-shirt. 'All Bi Myself'? Genius design.
And she told me, her name was Cielo.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Is Ours
Short Story"Us at midday was perfect, but I'm not perfect. I'm messy, nothing on earth could make me a sunrise like you. I'm as sunset as sunset could get. Thus, when the sun has died and midday is no longer, midnight is ours." In a well-awaited sequel of Us A...