Unfinished Tales

I just discovered that Blogger saves things you are typing automatically and stores them. I have found a treasure trove of story-beginnings dating back to last year, when I was at the height of my enthusiasm. I like to think of myself as something of a modern-day Tolkein, and so to post these conclusion-lacking masterpeices seems a logical action to take. Rather than make you wait until I die though, I will do it now.

Titled "Virinder: A Tale Of Lust":

Virinder sighed as he flipped the last Big Mac. He wished that his boss was a hot lesbian who paid him in sex. "Quitting time Virinder" said his large, hairy, male boss, patting him on the back. Virinder sighed again.

It was cold and quiet outside. Virinder wished he had known he was going to be asked to work a double shift, he would have brought his coat. He passed a group of Woolworths employee's on their smoke break, two of whom were women. "Imagine if one of them wanted to have sex with me" thought Virinder longingly. His heart sunk as he passed them without the offer coming up.

Virinder arrived home tired and cold. His father greeted him as he opened the door. "Guess what I got you Virinder?" he said excitedly. "What?" said Virinder. "A new pillow!" replied his father, pulling it out from behind his back. Virinder took the pillow without thanks and headed towards his room. "Why can't you buy me a hooker like regular Dad's" thought Virinder bitterly as he slammed the door to his room. Virinder kicked off his work shoes into the corner of his room. He flopped onto his bed, and waited for his Dad to go to bed.

Titled simply as "aditya":

Aditya awoke to a familiar tickling sensation as the tip of his penis gently caressed the ceiling of his bedroom. He opened his eyes to reveal not the tower of man that normally looms throbbingly over him, but a pair of large, beautiful green eyes. Aditya’s heart skipped a beat, “Shit Niggah!” he exclaimed.

Titled "Carl George And Morrison: A Tale Of 'If Only...'"

"No" said Mrs. Jorgensen flatly, who had appeared out of apparent nowhere. "Yeah, right-o", replied Carl George in defeat, returning the yogurt he had considered consuming back into his school-bag with a slightly embarrassed LOL. A handsome student two seats down said something cheeky and endearing to the no-nonsense English teacher, not in an attempt to impress anybody, but out of charity for his no-doubt bored classmates. "Do your work." Jorgy replied in predictably Jorg-esq tone to the row of rowdy teens. "Yeah, God" said a sexually undecided voice from across the room. "Shut up Morrison!" the class chanted humorlessly back to their pesky peer.

What appears to be an intended sequal to the Ewan story:

Ewan awoke to the sound of John’s heaving breath. Light shone through the open curtains, visible in beams of airborne dust. Ewan gently lifted the arm from on top of his chest and slid out of bed. He crept into John’s kitchen to find his pants. There was still a bottle of lube on the counter; Ewan smiled when he saw it, knowing his asshole would never be the same again, and knowing that John was the reason. He gathered together his clothes, got dressed, and quietly as he could exited through the door of the apartment; still unable to express anything but a smile on his round, adolescent face.

It wasn’t a long walk from John’s apartment to Ewan’s house. Ewan had been there and back every night since his parents had been in Melbourne. He knew he would have to cherish the last two days he had left before their return, lying to himself that he didn’t wish his aunt didn’t die every week.

Ewan arrived home and went straight sleep; He hadn’t gotten much last night. He would need his energy for the night ahead. Dreams of John caressed him gently throughout the remainder of the morning.

Ewan awoke at 1:32PM, later than he had wanted. He bathed and dressed and hurried out the front door.

Titled "Steven Nash":

“Steven Nash!” Jonny’s attractive yelling pulled Steven out of his trance. “Jonny Goodwin!” he replied, pretending as though he hadn’t been staring at Sean at all. “What’s going on?” he asked as Jonny arrived in front of him. “Sorry if I interrupted your wanking over Sean” said Jonny with a chuckle, ignoring the question. Steven just laughed it off, “Ha-ha, Yeah” he said unconvincingly.

Titled "Found In Translation":

Alex Selby was walking down a Japanese street in Japan. The street was filled with Japanese accountants, Japanese businessmen, Japanese women, and a whole range of other Japanese people.