Was this still a dream? He wasn’t sure. Patrick opened the window and let the cold air blow in. Clothes were so constricting. Patrick pulled off his...pajama tops, bottoms, and underwear. He stood in the middle of his room, letting his new equipment hang free. The air felt so good on his naked body. He looked between his skinny legs at his soft monster and dangling balls. My goodness, he’d really put on a lot of mass down there. The rest of his body hadn’t changed, just his gadgets. This had to. His arrogance at my presence, his eyes meeting mine, then, hardly even looking at me a second time he slipped past me - still walking and disappeared the way I had come. An encounter of maybe ten seconds. This morning it had been an otter - tomorrow?But that morning almost two years before had brought something else. There was a natural lookout I loved to sit in on the edge of a bench seat. It overlooked the tidal reach of the river - a perfect vantage point. It needed a detour and a small. More

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