Sometimes, when I’m out in public, I’ll encounter a young man who’s so handsome he’ll steal my breath, like the two guys in today’s photo posts. They have beautiful skin and hair, pretty eyes, and lovely features. In a way I envy them, but in a way I don’t. If you’re that beautiful, how do you know if people are your friends because they like you, or only because you’re pretty? I imagine beauty comes with a price.
I wrote a story on this subject, actually. It’s titled Dream Boy. The story deals with the residue of childhood sexual abuse; it’s a heavy read. But if you feel the urge, it’s included in my anthology, Flawed Boys. You can find a purchase link by clicking on the book’s cover in the sidebar at right. Don’t expect an upbeat tale, though the story ends well.
It’s another perfect spring day, here on the Gulf Coast of Florida. I’m back from a three-mile walk on the beach, and soon I’ll drive into town to visit a golf course with a good driving range and good putting greens. My boyfriend and I will play a round of golf at a private club tomorrow, and I want to be ready to play well. That means practice, practice and more practice.
Hey, it’s not a bad way to spend part of my day, and the weather’s just right for golfing.
Tonight, we’re attending a birthday gathering with close friends. That means good food and wine, and the opportunity to watch the sun set over the Gulf from the balcony on my friend’s twelfth floor condominium. We’ll call it an early night, though, since our tee time tomorrow morning is 8:10 AM. (Oh, no, no sleeping in for Martin and his b/f.)
Have a great Sunday, everyone.