Clinton Malone and I had been best friends since middle school. We grew up next door to each other, so if we weren't with each other at my house we were over at his. Naturally, he got to know my family and I got to know his. That's how i knew Allan, he was Clinton's dad. I don't know if anyone could have been a better friend to me than Clinton, but Allan Malone was the man that changed my life.
Clinton went off to college out of state after high school and married soon after graduating. We keep in touch, but only see each other on rare occasions when he comes back to visit home. After high school I got a job in a warehouse making good money but was laid off a few months ago when the economy tanked, so I moved back in temporarily with my parents. I wasnt a lazy shit... i pounded the pavement looking for work everyday... but inevitably i found myself with more and more downtime each day. On many of my afternoon walks to the mailbox I would see Mr out doing the same. We would exchange hellos and friendly smiles, but that was always the sole interaction... until the day it wasn't.
I had moved back home just as winter was coming to an end. Spring had just begun, bringing pleasantly warm days again. I heard Mr. Monroe call over from his porch on my way back from the mailbox.
"Hey Damien!"
I looked towards the porch to see him just at the top of the steps.
"Sure is nice not needing to bundle up for that walk today, huh?" he offered.
It was nice for sure to walk out in some hastily thrown on basketball shorts and white tee, but i couldnt reply in agreement. my brain stuttered when my eyes caught him standing there...
He had just taken a break from pulling weeds in the yard. His tall, muscular, heavyset frame was glistening with sweat. he was shirtless and his ample black chest hair was matted by the perspiration and seemed to point my eyes lower. I followed the thick line of hair that ran from just below his toned chest, over his slightly rounded yet still firm stomach, past his belly button and...
