Golden Boys – Part IV

Campers are not permitted to leave the campsite unattended.   On Gabriel’s bed                                the moth lies on its back, its broken wings curling at the ends. I’m fully awake and wondering where Gabriel has been the entire night. “I wouldn’t worry about that one if I were you, honey; he’s long gone by now.” Carmen,…

Top Tips for Xmas Ink Jobs Y’All

Originally posted on HEYMILLENNIALS:
Words by Thomas Willet. It’s the first week of November, I’ve only just recovered from my Halloween hangover when my boyfriend turns to me and asks the eternal question, “What do you want for Christmas this year?” I’m sorry, Christmas? Honey, I’ve only just taken down the skeletons and now you…

Golden Boys – Part III

Campers must carry out all therapies to ensure maximum conversion.   Dear Gay Drew I hope this letter finds you unwell. It’s been five years since I met you. Five years knowing that I’m not normal. But that is going to change. After tonight, I’m going to burn you out of my life for good….

Golden Boys – Part II

Campers are not permitted to wear any item of clothing that is of the following colour: pink, purple or yellow. Any variation of shade of said colours are also prohibited, especially pastels.   Inside cabin five, myself and the other              10’s            put our suitcases on our adopted beds. Trevor walking down the line, trails…

Golden Boys – Part 1

Campers are not permitted to be within half a meter of each other; unless directed to by a camp instructor.   On a throne of hungry iron I sit, with a crown of electric  wires upon my head and a wire ring pinching my dick.  I await my coronation. “I’d like you to concentrate on…

Purple Stars

Three face, one torso, two arse and four dick pics. Our supermarket shop is complete. I leave the house with my sex in my bag for life, ready to be delivered to a complete stranger. The cul-de-sac is cold and vacant. A cloud dense and starless night hangs heavy around my body. I walk to…

We always ate our Sunday dinner on stage

We always ate our Sunday dinner on stage. Uncle would sit in first position, surrounded by miles of net, stitching on thousands of sequins in between mouthfuls of peas and over-cooked beef. His ballet hands were tired of the ointment he put on grandma’s infected leg twice a day for eight years. But he did…

On the Beach

You’ll be sitting in the same chair facing the same window you’ve been gazing out of for the past ten years when the sands of Normandy will curl between your toes again. The carer will hand you your morning pills. You won’t ask what they are, you take too many to care anymore. The carer…