He let me buy him some sexy panties and a short hot red silk nightie in the girls department, his mix of embarrassment and lust so to die for, he knew...it was wrong, he knew it was hot, the battle for evermore. It was a several hour drive to my secluded mountain cabin, his life story so sad, he showed me the scars, ugly dark circles on his balls, where his stepfather had burned him with cigarettes while his mother had laughed, oh, promised him we would visit New Jersey someday, I would avenge. Soon the dismal grey turned a shade brighter, as the sun warmed the air and broke through the clouds. A tiny beam of sunlight found its way onto the marker-less grave and cast a brightness over it, the silent majesty of the moment shared with those who truly loved the frail, old man and they rejoiced in their praise of it. ***************************** ‘Okay, now ye’s ha’e a better understanding of Fletcher. Now, as history has it, Fletcher is the one who became the Glaistig. There’s many. More

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