What If You Are the Whirlwind?

"Imagine for a moment, if you would

A life that's not defined in bad and good

But chained instead with shameful aching need

To eat the fruit and try to hide the seed."

___

Roger

___

Roger walks down the sidewalk, carrying a few small groceries in his re-usable bag. He likes to use his car as little as possible, "...keep her healthy for the next generation." plus these are family neighborhoods, quite lovely.

It's 20 minutes to his house, and he loves walking. In fact, walking and watching might be two of Roger's favorite things in the world. He looks in wonder at the rows of maples lining the street, shading the yards, "Must've been an HOA agreement. Lovely." He says to himself.

He sets his bag down on the sidewalk and scans the trees for any sign of bird's nests. Resting in the beauty, he runs his hand through his thick but clean-cut hair. He bends his 5'8 frame backwards and gives himself a stretch. Anyone watching, might certainly enjoy the view. He's moderately handsome and fit with kind eyes. Most people guess late 30s, but he's actually 46. "Get a lot of people with that one. Guess Daddy found a way to actually help me."

With this thought his face darkens a little, mood souring. He is just about to pick up his bag when he hears a tiny mew behind him. He turns around and sees a boy looking up into a tree, "two houses down, no adults outside." he scans the street ahead him, "Empty. No one around." He takes a deep breath to calm his rising nerves, " Okay."

He turns towards the boy and hears another tiny mew followed by "jaaaaaassssppeeerrrr. Come down! You gonna get stuck." Roger approaches the boy, palms sweating and gives him a warm smile. The boy can't be more than 6 or 7. "Hi there. You need any help getting Jasper down from that tree?"

"Who are you?" The little boy questions.

"I'm just a neighbor of yours from down the street. Would you like me to get him down for you?"

"Yeah. Jasper's a girl. I named her backwards cuz I like tricking people."

Roger walks up to the tree half listening to the boy, mind racing, simple conversation filling him to soft attention. "A funny man. I like that. Do you like playing tricks on people?" Roger continues the conversation as he gently lifts the clinging kitten from the branch. He struggles a minute with the tiny claws in bark.

"Yeah. I love it when people jump and get scared like on that Carbarnarrow show.."

"You mean the Carbonaro Effect? That's a good one. One of my favorites too." Roger turns around, kitten in hand and bends down to the boy's level. His body shivers as the little boys hands touch his in the exchange.

"Hey. You wanna see a magic trick?" He asks bending to one knee.

"Yeah sure! I bet you can't trick me!"

Roger reaches into the chest pocket of his jacket and retrieves one of the origami folded bills he keeps tucked inside. He performs the typical coin behind the ear trick except with a tiny $10 folded flower.

"Hey how'd you do that?!" The boy asks.

Roger takes his tiny hand into his and says, "A magician never reveals his secrets but if you unfold that flower very gently it will grant you a prize." The little boy smiles at him and Roger feels a pounding in his chest, a full stiffness now troubling to hide. He stands up tying his jacket around his waist, "Better take Jasper in before she finds another tree."

"Okay." The boy smiles, "Hey my name's Eddie. What's yours?"

"You can call me Jack." Roger says warmly picking up his groceries. "Bye Jack. See ya round!" Eddie hollers as he runs up the steps with Jasper squeezed in his arms.

"No you won't, sweet boy." Roger thinks to himself as he walks toward home. "I'll have to change the route a bit. Can't go back there." Roger struggles to find the peaceful aura he had observing the maples. Taking deep, cleansing breaths, he walks further and further from the boy's house. He struggles to forget the feel of skin, the sweet trusting eyes, how easy it would be to take that road.

Pressing on towards his house, caught in forbidden imagination: what could have been, followed by the ever present hate for the truth of his need, he hates himself, "As the world hates me, for thinking. Needing." His mind swirls in contradictions. By the time he reaches his steps the erection is painful. "Daddy's little cum-pot." He hears in the cruel voice of past. He sets down the bag and struggles with the keys a moment. "Can't do anything right you little fuck. Cept' hold still for Daddy's cock like a real girl."

Roger, takes a deep breath and sits on the patio chair, abandoning the lock. He closes his eyes and counts to 10 slowly, then stands and correctly works the key into the lock. Picking up his groceries, he walks inside, leaving them on the living room floor as he shuts and locks the door. He sits on the couch and pulls out his raging cock, wipes the tears from his face and tries to work it out.