Apollo pressed the tip of his tongue against the end of the barrel, feeling the large round smooth bored hole that swift death would be delivered through. Apollo blinked cold sweat out of his eyes, long lashes blurring his already closed vision.Death was staring him in the face, and it had dark black eyes and smile as seductive as a panther.Apollo, aged six, standing on the banks of the little stream that ran through the field at the back of their house. The corn stems were gold, darker than his sun bleached hair, and waved in the breeze at waist level. Tanned bare limbs and a pair of dusty blue shorts. He dabbled his toes the clear running blue water and smiled to himself."Apollo!"The little boy turns and half blinded by the low sun, raises a hand to shade sky blue eyes to see a slim girlish figure in a light cotton sundress with long wavy hair running toward him over the field.That same girl, maybe three or four years older, in hipster jeans and a red t-shirt emblazoned with some. Recent adventures had been fueled by alcohol and a lack of faith in the goodness of men. Heart broken, and mailed to me like a cheap postcard from Graceland, I was cocooning myself in the protective bubble of friends, alcohol and distraction. ‘You have the most beautiful green eyes’ he said and his gold band of promise was ignored. His look would caress my shoulder from across the room, his toes innocently touching mine were secretly begging me to allow him into my world of words, scars and eating ice-cream, a skill that I had so phallically perfected that it could weaken the knees of the most casual male observer without them ever realizing why – all the while, promises of faithfulness were keeping someone warm at home, yet they were being ignored here. This bothered me slightly until the consequences of our eventual actions were realized by me to be solely his, and another literary moment would be stolen for future reference. Lying on the bed, skin to skin, the universe couldn’t.
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