Wellington Street

In which we take a stroll down a very strange lane.


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It all started with a knock at the door. It was a late Christmas Eve, and it took some time for my father to separate himself long enough to answer the door and turn on the light. I followed him through the crowd of people I didn't know, friends of my father. My dad opened the door, the cold air stinging my face from my position next to my father's leg. There in the doorway was a very tall, pale creature. Its long, spindly limbs were settled close to its frame, its knees tucked against its chin as it attempted to fit within the short expanses of the porch.

“It's cold...Can I come in?”

Its face betrayed nothing of the motives behind its presence, save a warm smile settled low below a pair of bloodshot eyes. Its hair was drawn back and greasy, its form seeming to be lost between distinctions, rendering it without a sense of gender. The only clothes it wore was a single white nightie, its bare feet ending in purpled flesh surrounding blue toenails that sunk and trembled in the snow.

I looked back at the den, where all the stockings were hung. My mothers was still in the in the box. Dad said it wouldn't be going up this year...Meanwhile, the song “Santa Claus is Coming Town” began to play, the other members of my family yet to be aware of that horror that crouched at our front door.

“You better not pout, you better not cry, you better no shout I'm telling you why...”

Threesome? Part 2

On Tynan

This is a continuation of the story found here. Immediately things were a bit awkward. "She knows what we're doing," I thought. Short glances were exchanged between us, sizing up the situation. Simone and I barely revealed hints of smug grins.

Simone suggested giving us manicures. I sat next to Ariel as she filed and polished our nails. We got a bit more comfortable and started joking around a little bit. Simone got up to get the topcoat and Ariel flopped down with her head on my arm.

"I'm so tired!"

It was 3pm. Could she possibly be hinting? I've learned that if there's room to interpret something a girl does as suggestive, it probably is. On one hand we'd only known each other for an hour and a half, but on the other hand she seemed to know what was going on and was onboard.

"I'll make you some tea."

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