Never Look Back
Chapter 01
Written by Silver Vixen
The plastic crucifix swung from the rearview mirror, softly clicking unheard underneath the blaring music coming from the radio. The driver tapped his fingers to the beat of the song, softly singing along as he flew down the familiar highway. His eyes were hidden by dark shades but a smile seemed to permanently stretched across his face. His other hand was resting on a pile of assorted things, a picture of himself and other darker haired stoic looking young man, a pile of tapes by various artists, and a bunch of red roses.
The young man turned off the highway into a small town. He stopped the car by a clean looking hotel with flowerpots hanging from the Southern style porch rafters. He reached his slim hand over to the tape player and turned off the music, popping the tape out of the player and slipping it back in its sheath. He opened the car door and stepped out with a slight swagger. He walked towards the back of his car and lifted the trunk, grabbing a duffel bag from within then closing the trunk behind him.
He walked towards the hotel door, bits of his hair blowing out behind him in the wind. He stepped inside the door of the hotel, closing the door behind him and making his way towards the counter where a young lady was being helped.
He looked over his sunglasses at her, being gay didn't mean he still couldn't notice girls, they always had the most interesting stories even though they held not much other worth to him. He liked to play a game, guessing where they where from and what they did by their manner and clothing. He was usually right.
She wasn't a great beauty, her nose being a bit too small for her face and her muscular figure off balancing her stance but she had shoulder length light blonde hair that gave her a slightly golden glow. Some of her hair and been sectioned out and braided into small braids, other parts slightly curled around her heart shaped face. She had light blue eyes, reminding the young man of a certain blond Arabian he knew. She was wearing a slightly baggy pair of tan pants and a tight blue tanktop with a white painter's shirt spattered with ink stains on top, tied loosely at the waist. She had a worn leather bag slung over her shoulder, a camera peeking out of the top.
The young man lit a cigarette, watching the young lady write a check and get her room key. She was a painter, he decided, a wealthy kid who received money from a great aunt or other since her parents had disinherited her. He spun the idea around in his head. It seemed like a good story and he stored it in his memory for use later.
He gave the clerk the information he needed and received a room key. Making his way to his room, he opened the door quietly. He threw his duffel bag on the bed and rummaged around in it. Withdrawing a picture, he set it on the bedside table, smiling at the picture of him and his lover. He sighed and took off his sunglasses, rubbing a fist across his eyes.
He had been up all night, driving his annual drive to this town. He set the sunglasses on the bedside table and rummaged around in his duffel bag again. He removed a slim bright red Apple laptop and attached the cables to a spare outlet on the wall. He set it on the night table and flopped on the bed, closing his eyes and slowly drifting to sleep.
* * *
He ran through the monastery halls, calling for Father. He tripped and fell on his face, hurting his knee. A nun came running towards him as he starting bawling, the tears streaking down his face in torrents. She picked him up and cradled him, using a bit of her black habit to wipe off his dirty face.
His crying slowed, coming down to an occasional whimper or sniffle. The young nun smiled at him and helped him stand up again, walking with him slowly down the hall. He looked up at her with a big smile on his face; dark royal blue eyes glimmering and his tumbling fall forgotten.
* * *
Oh...I like this style...it's really cool! Yeah!
Chapter 01
Written by Silver Vixen
The plastic crucifix swung from the rearview mirror, softly clicking unheard underneath the blaring music coming from the radio. The driver tapped his fingers to the beat of the song, softly singing along as he flew down the familiar highway. His eyes were hidden by dark shades but a smile seemed to permanently stretched across his face. His other hand was resting on a pile of assorted things, a picture of himself and other darker haired stoic looking young man, a pile of tapes by various artists, and a bunch of red roses.
The young man turned off the highway into a small town. He stopped the car by a clean looking hotel with flowerpots hanging from the Southern style porch rafters. He reached his slim hand over to the tape player and turned off the music, popping the tape out of the player and slipping it back in its sheath. He opened the car door and stepped out with a slight swagger. He walked towards the back of his car and lifted the trunk, grabbing a duffel bag from within then closing the trunk behind him.
He walked towards the hotel door, bits of his hair blowing out behind him in the wind. He stepped inside the door of the hotel, closing the door behind him and making his way towards the counter where a young lady was being helped.
He looked over his sunglasses at her, being gay didn't mean he still couldn't notice girls, they always had the most interesting stories even though they held not much other worth to him. He liked to play a game, guessing where they where from and what they did by their manner and clothing. He was usually right.
She wasn't a great beauty, her nose being a bit too small for her face and her muscular figure off balancing her stance but she had shoulder length light blonde hair that gave her a slightly golden glow. Some of her hair and been sectioned out and braided into small braids, other parts slightly curled around her heart shaped face. She had light blue eyes, reminding the young man of a certain blond Arabian he knew. She was wearing a slightly baggy pair of tan pants and a tight blue tanktop with a white painter's shirt spattered with ink stains on top, tied loosely at the waist. She had a worn leather bag slung over her shoulder, a camera peeking out of the top.
The young man lit a cigarette, watching the young lady write a check and get her room key. She was a painter, he decided, a wealthy kid who received money from a great aunt or other since her parents had disinherited her. He spun the idea around in his head. It seemed like a good story and he stored it in his memory for use later.
He gave the clerk the information he needed and received a room key. Making his way to his room, he opened the door quietly. He threw his duffel bag on the bed and rummaged around in it. Withdrawing a picture, he set it on the bedside table, smiling at the picture of him and his lover. He sighed and took off his sunglasses, rubbing a fist across his eyes.
He had been up all night, driving his annual drive to this town. He set the sunglasses on the bedside table and rummaged around in his duffel bag again. He removed a slim bright red Apple laptop and attached the cables to a spare outlet on the wall. He set it on the night table and flopped on the bed, closing his eyes and slowly drifting to sleep.
* * *
He ran through the monastery halls, calling for Father. He tripped and fell on his face, hurting his knee. A nun came running towards him as he starting bawling, the tears streaking down his face in torrents. She picked him up and cradled him, using a bit of her black habit to wipe off his dirty face.
His crying slowed, coming down to an occasional whimper or sniffle. The young nun smiled at him and helped him stand up again, walking with him slowly down the hall. He looked up at her with a big smile on his face; dark royal blue eyes glimmering and his tumbling fall forgotten.
* * *
Oh...I like this style...it's really cool! Yeah!