Wishing on a Blue Star Read Free Page B

the zipper on the small tent’s forward flap.
    “Jeez. How far do did you have to go? Katmandu?” Dale Andressen chided Merrick as he hunched himself inside and zipped the flap shut.
    “Just a few yards out,” Merrick replied. “I dug out a small nook to get out of the wind.”
    “You should have just peed in the bag. That’s what it’s for, you know.” Dale scowled at his partner, but the expression on his face was as loving as it was severe.
    “I know, I know. I just hate dragging the damn thing around. Besides, you can’t write your name in a bag.” Merrick grinned as he pulled off his gloves and outer jacket. The snow already packed up against their small tent was a perfect insulator to catch and retain the heat from their small stove.
    Dale frowned. “You freeze that thing off and you won’t have anything to write with.” He pushed one of the laden packs aside to make room. “Come over here and warm me up.”
    Merrick quirked an eyebrow and knocked the snow from his boots as he took them off. “Is that all you had in mind?” He left his boots and jacket, and as much of the snow that had been clinging to his pants as he could brush off, in the outer vestibule and crawled further inside. The wind rattled the outer flaps as he zipped the inner flaps closed and scooted across the small space to lean against Dale, careful not to upset the stove. “Sounds like it’s getting worse.”
    “It probably is,” Dale said. “And when the sun goes down it’s going to get a helluva lot colder. We may have to share body heat to survive.”
    Merrick laughed. “Ha! I knew you had an ulterior motive.” He cupped his hand behind Dale’s head and leaned in for a kiss. As always, the flare of passion that enveloped him, despite the rough stubble on both their faces, warmed and thrilled him in equal measure. Dale hummed as he opened for his partner and as always, the sound went straight to the base of Merrick’s spine, pooling there like molten silver. Merrick tilted his head slightly and dipped his tongue beneath Dale’s, finding and capturing that faint flavor that was the very hallmark of his partner’s identity. Dale obliged by lifting his tongue to caress the roof of Merrick’s mouth, still humming faintly. They separated when their mutual need for air overcame their desire and they laughed breathlessly.
    Thanks again for all the comments!
     
    Patric

Saturday, October 24, 2009
    Busy night with the kids.
     
    Honestly, how can I possibly grump about not getting anything written when the kids come over because they decided they wanted to carve pumpkins?
    And of course, their daughter, Princess Leaks-a-Lot is forever a charmer, and I can never turn down an opportunity to snuggle the baby.
    I can always write tomorrow, right? :)

Just Being
    Jaime Samms
     
    On the television screen, the six-legged, pink-freckled creature with three eye stalks reared up on its back legs, tromped onto the enemy critter and promptly collapsed. The game Spore was nothing if not an exercise in the absolutely ridiculous. I couldn’t explain why I loved it so much unless it was maybe because I could create anything at all, and no matter how foolish or impractical, it would excel at some part of the quest I needed it to fulfill. If only life could be like that.
    But life is not a Wii game and being afraid of it is a little like not being able to breathe properly. Worrying about who you are and if people will like you tightens the screws and closes bands of fear around you until you forget what it ever felt like to breathe clean air or expand your lungs. I spent a long time squeezing myself into a box and shutting out the fresh air. Years and years, a little bit at a time, putting up the walls and locking the doors and being very careful not to take any chances.
    Staring at that foolish pink critter on the screen, watching it hop and dance on command, the sounds of the game disappearing under the wail of my roommate Kennedy’s