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January 6, 2000
| FICTION |
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Have you ever really seen beautiful people? The women start at six feet tall. Their hair, long or short, afros or braids, is something you'd like to touch, but you know you should be afraid to. And you are.
Take Dave Anderson, whose name is vague and unassuming because if it had been lovely too maybe even his parents would have murdered him out of envy.
His eyes, if they grabbed you, were rough as you secretly wanted them to be and then rougher because you wanted to be pushed. Then he said, Hey, and his voice was only a little deep, so almost-ideal.
Hello, you replied. Then, How can I help you?
He needed something so you got it; he put out his hand and the skin was the brown of rich, sugared things that you eat in your bed when you're sure you are no good. And you bet his skin would taste like that.
Is there anything else? you asked and he shook his head real easy because he knew you'd watch quietly until he stopped. He took his time so you'd enjoy it.
Then he left a note for someone and that's how you got his name; after he left you realized your dick was hard. You repeated his name at home that night, maybe in disbelief because you swore before Tuesday that only pussy could be beautiful.
For more Victor LaValle, read:
Anniversary — Eleven Years
Our Secret
Big Time
Commentarium (6 Comments)
This story, so-called, is too short and has no meaning, furthermore.
I like this one a lot. Actually, the last one I wasn't feeling, but I think that was because it was an early draft, it just seemed like it needed more time to germinate. But with lines like "the skin was the brown of rich, sugared things that you eat in your bed when you're sure you are no good. And you bet his skin would taste like that," you are rocking it. That sounds like one of my lines, of course, but I think you wrote this piece way back so maybe you influenced me. -Utter Matness p.s.- What the hell am I supposed to do about the lizards?
The ending was quite a surprise, as I'm sure it was for many.
This in fact happened to me, an irrevocably heterosexual man. A gorgeous man, blonde and lean and brilliant, came to work in a suite next to the one I was working in. I was astonished to find that I couldn't take my eyes off him and that I envied and hated his lovely wife. I had no idea what to do with these feelings or with my desire; I couldn't even formulate a decent fantasy. How frustrating! What a shame. But now I wish it would happen again.
It's brave, making it so short. It tempts quick readers to dismiss the work as easily titilating. What I like more is that it's not actually about a gay experience, if you read the first line it says beautiful people, not men so it suggests to me that this isn't about gay or straight, but about the idea that there are some things and some people so beautiful that the more common distinctions of who is attracted to whom go out the window. A small, courageous bullet. Impressive.
exactly! desire & sexuality shifts, you never have any idea when, where, or why, but it's all good... why do people deny this to the ends of the earth? the world will not come unglued. but i was feeling this powerfully because i;m a woman who's only recently come to the realization that, after 30 years of only desiring white-skinned men, that brown-skinned men are very appealing to me--i can't even think about white skin anymore, i am so distracted by how mouth-watering that warm brown skin. looks to me....the feeling was captured wonderfully.
Now you say something