Tuesday, July 7, 2009

ON BORROWED WINGS

(will be posting parts and segments of a fictional work I have in progress open for criticisms)

A borrowed grain of sand in time: to live and to fade in time.

We live our lives just once and what comes next we know not yet. The best we could do is with intentions to learn and understand the reasons why. As we ache to find meaning of our existence let us consider looking beyond the boundaries set by our society. As the pages progress let us remind ourselves of the endless possibility beyond all understanding and social norms. Let us turn our backs on the pious hypocrisy of our times and for once open our minds to the depths of our time and look beyond the face.

That in darkness we may experience the light as with the absence of the sun we shall be able to gaze in wonder of the multitude of stars that lay beyond us.


In our youth, we experience the bliss of knowing to sore heights beyond possibilities, stretching our limits and racing toward our dreams. So let it be, that in our youth we will learn to savor the times that soon will become a part of us all, the memories that we will cling-to, here and to the unknown. As the time of our lives come to that end, let us lay-down the wings that bought us toward the heights and remember the times we have flown on borrowed wings.



It was one of those serene afternoons where the sun is about to set behind the waves just beyond where the eyes could see no more, Lloyd Handrei de la Croix was pacing himself by the beach and every step he takes leaves behind footprints that the waves washes away. LloHan, as his friends call him, enjoys these afternoon-walk. He likes it just at the end of the shore where the sea hugs the sand in eternal abandon with the sand and foaming seawater comes squishing between his toes. He is walking on a barefoot with leather sandals; one in each hand, while the gentle summer breeze is flailing the beige linen trousers he had on which he had cropped up to the middle of his shins and his white cotton T-shirt hugging his chest.

At a distant his thighs where formed in a beautiful silhouette, which with a discerning eye in the light of the setting sun, one could not help but notice he had nothing underneath just the tanned flesh sprinkled with youthful twirls of hair and surprisingly an interesting bulge with which even some of the straight guys would grin at—in the thought of this man’s utter carefree ways. He is the kind guy you would look at but would be too embarrassed to stare whether you are a woman, a man and anyone in between. He was the guy you would want to become or the guy who would make you cum.

He was in the prime of his youth without a care in the world or so most of the people think when they see him. But through his walk to the beach he has been thinking on what will become of him at twenty-five and what is he looking for in life. His thoughts had separated him from all the rest that are idly walking on the beach. He didn’t mind or even notice the two giggling girls who were giving him an eyeful; both scantly clad and are bathing in the afternoon glow of the summer sun. It was a fifteen-minute walk from the beach to his apartment, and on this particular (to be continued)



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