Tag Archives: A Lost Boy

Silent Auction

By A Lost Boy

With a staggered click, followed by an unmistaken chug of heavy machinery, I was torn away from slumber. My crusted eyelids batted, once, twice, three times before withdrawing into my skull, overwhelmed in the midst of the fluorescent light which liberated me from darkness.

We weren’t to be alone that evening. There was far too many footsteps to follow a single person. When the concept of company presented itself, I’d compensate by puffing out my chest, and shuffling as much as the shackles would permit. I’m not at all sure why that was, it’s not as if I was going anywhere.

The draft surging inward annunciated that merciless cold which was the concrete beneath my feet. It was as though I could only feel, function and exist in the presence of others. A sheet of cigar smoke draped itself over my shoulders, forcing my nostrils to stretch out at fresh air, and then some, upon the failed attempt to gasp through the gag.

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House Wins

By A Lost Boy

“Is that Cole, in my stocking?” Whispered Coach Adams through a dimpled grin.

The silver-haired hulk of a man embraced his other half with unwavering elation. Between their parted lips was I… the name I was given, matters little; merely a hogtied plaything beneath what I regarded as the most exquisite tree you can imagine.

They turned to face me mid-embrace. Immaculate, vascular and sun-kissed. Coach Adams was actually my former wrestling coach. He was like a second father, or father to be brutally honest. Adams trained me up for years during my stint in higher education. I remembered him fondly; up until a point, he was my role model. A truly enlightened man.

Had I known prior to my visit the position I’d be in, who am I kidding? I had many regrets, and this sure as Hell weren’t one of them. Being trapped was my escape. You see, I had a slight addiction to gambling away other people’s money. And you’ll of noticed I said ‘stint’ in higher education… yeah, a downward spiral or dare I say agonising decent into Hell roughly captures my journey thus far.

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No Mercenary

By A Lost Boy

You might have questioned my state of mind as I pricked my index finger with a lancet, printing my identity onto a foot-long contract in the passenger seat of a man’s car I’d met via Craigslist.

You might have even pitied me upon reading the terms of agreement in question.

But I can assure you… I was sober within this act & without the haze of lust; in possession of every of my facilities.

Until recently, I was the posterchild for privileged. The kind of guy who wears a tie to smart-casual. An Oxford Alumni, willing to kiss whomever ass required to rise up through the ranks… a real piece of shit in hindsight.

I deserved this, my thoughts declared as I peeped over the first edition document towards the driver with a sinister grin; the sinister grin, I had misread as welcoming. A movie star smile with a twist, carved amongst a sea of hedge-cut facial hair.

I remember admiring the man of forty, a sharp nose; an equally as sharp chin under there somewhere. He donned a full-set of salt & peppered hair, cropped with precision.

“Are you certain?” The man said with words unambiguous as I handed over the parchment.

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