Page 156 of Ink Beneath Starlight

“Springfield,” a speaker announces. “Arriving now, on Platform Two.”

Stepping forward to the yellow line, I nudge my sneaker across it.

Lines are there for a reason.

Lines keep us safe.

I drag my shoe back again.

I’m fighting it.

Fighting to resist the memory of Porter's naked body.

How could I possibly forget?

The subtle bounce of his cock as he walked past.

The way I wanted to touch him so bad.

The way I want him to touch me.

Hopping off the train at Virginia station, I catch bus 306 to Nudgee Beach.

It’s the closest beach to the city, or so I was told.

Lovely for bird watching, said the librarian.

She didn't seem like the sort of woman who sunbathes.

But I don’t have a car, and I’ve spent all morning thinking about dicks.

So an afternoon trip is all I have time for.

Would people laugh if they knew that it’s my first time seeing a beach?

My very first glimpse of the ocean?

“The edge of a continent,” I whisper.

It sounds so magical.

Any moment now, I’ll see it.

I think about the first beach picture I saw when I was a kid.

Golden sand.

Turquoise waves.

Now I’m living the dream.

We made it, Little Mark.

We made it.

Shame about the weather.

Those dark clouds are looming.