I don’t smoke. I tried when I was around 10 or 11 years old. I tried because my older cousins were doing it. I coughed & coughed & coughed.
I tried it again around middle school age. We would be at the park, thinking we were so cool. I still would cough & cough. I finally gave up trying to be cool with smoking. That’s when I turned to music instead.
But flames and smoke always captivated me. I enjoy looking at fire, loved playing with it, candles & melting wax. I love smoke photography. I think the way smoke is captured in photos is at times sexy, mysterious and fascinating.
This is no smoke in the photo below, just a flame that I edited, but those are my lips and a cigarette and I’m wearing those new black gloves that I bought at the estate sale.
Thank You Mr. Sam for giving me the title to this photo. He’s good like that, I wish I was creative with words & thoughts as he is.
I started back to work this past Wednesday. The day was exhausting. The afternoons are always more stressful than my morning route.
The morning commute is always beautiful and with my iTunes blasting as I drive is even a better feeling.
There is a local contest that started here in my area. NO. I’m not participating in the contest. They want a $30 entry fee and you can enter 4 photos and then $10 for every photo after that. I don’t have that kind of money. It’s my understanding that the photographer would eventually lose out on any royalties, etc. Besides, my photos aren’t that great. I’ve doubted my “eye.” I just don’t see things like I used to. There is a theme to the contest, to take photos of what we think is the best of our city.
In a slowly dying town, it may be difficult to take these photos. Might have to really get creative with locations, not to get confused with landmarks or historical sites.
I’ve taken photos of this spot several times before. It always speaks to me, so tranquil, peaceful and quiet. The sounds of water, the birds and the wind through the trees. There is a bench off to the side. I have sat there a few times to listen to my inner voice. Most of the time, I can’t hear a damn thing.
I love French Fries.
I love them with ketchup and sometimes I eat them without.
I love the crinkled, the steak and the regular fries and of course American. But I don’t like the waffles fries. I like cheesy fries, but not “the with everything” fries.
Sometimes I dip my fries and sometimes I drown my fries. I don’t like my fries with ranch, mayo or anything odd like those things. Just pass the ketchup.
Monday was Martin Luther King’s Birthday so I didn’t have to work. I told Mr. Sam I was free most of the day. He did his morning chores, called me after he was finished.
I picked him up to head to the grocery store to get some items for us.
It was a perfect day to hide away from the world. Damp, icy and rainy and cloudy. His mother met us at the door and his father was sitting in his chair. I walked past them and headed up the stairs.
I watched Mr.Sam set up his computer so that I could look at his art work and start working on photographing all of them.
Sunday night is quieter from the other days, except during football season. But, due to the weather this was a dead Sunday at the dive bar. Mr. Sam must have walked in seconds before I did, he was still taking off his coat. There wasn’t a good place at the bar, so we walked over to the corner booth. It’s a round booth in the corner, tucked away from onlookers.
“Sitting here isn’t going to be obvious, is it?” He said.
“I don’t care. We aren’t doing anything wrong.” I replied.
“Yet…you forgot to say yet.”
I laughed after he said that. We sat there for a few minutes before Astro walked over to turn on the overhead lights and the bar lights. We both looked at each other and smiled.
He walked back to his side of the bar. A few minutes later “Bubbles” walked up to us … “How are you guys doing? Hey, I can’t believe how stupid Charlie is and what he did.”
I didn’t want to be in the dark, but I didn’t understand what she was talking about. I sat there and nodded my head. “Don’t worry no one associates you with him anymore.”
Now that made me kind of nervous, considering what other shit I have heard and been told on the street. “Well, thank heaven for that. We haven’t been together in years. We hung out together these passed through years. You know, Charlie his charming personality, it’s difficult to stay mad at him.”
“I know right. He really is sweet. But a total fuck-up.”
I laughed. We talked about some of our mutual bar friends and life. She got up after she finished her drink with us, walking back to sit at the bar.
Day 15 of 365
Mr. Sam & I were talking about general stuff, there was never any touching each other. We have tried to keep the status of our relationship a secret, but after last Friday I think it’s a bust. I haven’t even written about that night yet! oh lord.
We stayed until about 10pm. Catching a nice little buzz, we left and headed to his place.
“Are you gonna be brave enough to come inside or you gonna just drop me off?” I’m deciding on the two options I had, “Yes, I’ll go inside with you.”
I knew he lives with his parents who are both suffering from several health issues. I felt like a teenager again being snuck into the house. He held my hand as we walked up the stairs. Opened the door with his name on it, which I laughed. His parents were asleep, and it was so quiet in the house. I stood there as he closed the door behind him. “Do you want water or coffee?”
“Water…I need water.” I answered.
I sat on the end of his bed drinking my bottled water. He sat next to me, we didn’t speak a word. He started to gently caress my arm back and forth. I felt relaxed. He leaned in to kiss me and I kissed him back. We laid back on the bed, moving up on the bed. My boots are hanging off the edge of the bed because I wasn’t taking them off. He rolled over on top of me. We’re still kissing, I feel him grind his hard cock on me over our jeans. Can this really be happening? Are we dry humping? Yes. we are. Inside I’m laughing but on the outside we are kissing hard & deep. He rolls over on to his back and I curl up next to him. He holds me tight, caressing my back. I drift off on his chest. I wake up to the sound of myself snoring. He laughed. “I wasn’t falling asleep because I know you hafta leave soon.”
“Another 30 minutes.”
We talked about the rest of the week and he showed me some of his art work. Time was up and he walked me out.
Read what happens next in “Hiding Away”
I don’t normally eat raspberries. At the grocery store today I seen them. They looked delicious, they were delicious.