by Josan
Acre upon acre of high wheat, golden, ready for harvest to one side. Rolling
meadows to the other, high grasses, dotted with slashes of
colour from a variety of wildflowers.
He glanced up, smiled. Red apples, weighted with the juice of ripe fruit,
bowed the branch of the old tree so that all he had to do was reach
up and pull one down to him.
He rubbed the fruit against his shirt, grinned at his reflection on the
polished skin and bit into it, sweetness flooding his mouth as well as
the liquid that he could barely contain. He licked his lips, the sides of his
mouth clean with his tongue, like a great cat grooming itself.
There were birds somewhere up in the boughs of the tree: he could hear their
melodic song. Bees were around, collecting the pollen from
the wild roses that
grew in proliferation nearby.
The early afternoon sun shone brightly in the cloudless blue sky.
Walter finished his apple, sighed at the near perfection of the day. Only
one thing was missing for complete perfection.
And, from the sounds coming from the other side of the hill, that element
was about to be fulfilled.
Walter stood up, dusted his hands against the moleskin pants that molded his
thighs. His Hessian boots were slightly dusty, but that didn't
claim his attention. His eyes were fixed on the point where a happy humming
could be heard.
He stood, waiting, the image of masculinity: feet apart, fists on hips, his
blousy white shirt, open at the neck, ruffling in the slight breeze,
hip length leather vest open, framing his manly torso.
As he watched, a figure came over the top of the meadowed hill, gathering
flowers. A coronet of daisies circled Alex's dark sable hair: he
had enough in his hands for another.
Walter laughed aloud at the thought of Alex trying to persuade him to wear
the one he was surely going to make for him.
The laughter caught Alex's attention. For a moment he stopped, looked around
till he spotted his waiting lover.
They smiled, the smile a mere token of the love they had for each other.
Slowly, Alex began running toward Walter. At some point in the day, he had
pulled out his white shirt from his restricting pants which
allowed the material
to billow out around him as he raced toward Walter in slow motion.
In slow motion, the flowers he held were released, strewn to the breeze as
Alex's hands reached for his lover, as his smile grew to a grin, his
green eyes sparkling, making him look more cat-like than ever.
Walter's hands slowly raised from his hips to stretch forward, ready to
catch the man who made his heart beat faster with every
approaching step.
In slow motion, Alex leaped from the ground to be caught in those loving
arms, to be held high by the man whose love had rescued him
from a dark time.
Alex's hands rested on the wide, solid shoulders of his lover; Walter's,
around the narrow waist of his beloved. Slowly, still in slow motion,
Walter turned round and round, looking into the loving eyes of the one his
heart had chosen thoroughly if not wisely.
As they slowly came together, Walter could hear the soft strains of a Mozart
melody, a melody that fit in so beautifully with the way he felt
right then.
He clasped Alex close to him, allowed his knees to buckle and gradually they
made their way to the soft ground.
Alex lay on Walter's chest. A shower of rose petals, all hues of the
rainbow, rained down upon them. The air was permeated with their
perfume. Laughing, Walter rolled so that Alex, bathed in the petals, laughed
joyously, his hands reaching for Walter's face, to bring it down
for his kisses.
"Jesus!" Walter sat up in bed, suddenly awake.
He looked around in the dark and realized that he was in his bed, in his
room, in his condo. Besides him, head buried in his pillow, Alex lay
sound asleep.
Careful, not to disturb him, Walter bent over and sniffed. No roses. Just
the sleepy smell of Alex.
He sighed in relief.
He took a moment to appreciate the sight of his lover, then lay back down.
That was the last time he would allow his mother to pick the video when she
visited.
"Elvira Madigan, for God's sake," he muttered as he snuggled closer to Alex
and fell back asleep.
For those of you who have never seen "Elvira Madigan", go rent it: it's a
great chick-flick! Very beautifully photographed, lovely Mozart
music, beautiful lovers, and very teary ending. (Gave birth to all those slo-mo
running through high grasses
toothpaste commercials.)
Okay: slight correction. After I posted on SkinnerKrycek, someone pointed
out that they were shampoo commercials.
alter looked around at the lovely scene spread out as though for his benefit.
