Alexander had seen the man many times now, in the cute trinket shops along the strip, on the blood-streaked pier, on the packed boardwalk and on occasion he’d even seen him on the strand. Each time they encountered one another it was like a dance without the grand and superfluous gestures, just nuance; no words were exchanged (which would’ve ruined the entire effect), only passing over the shoulder glances. The man would pretend not to see him, pretend to be caught up in some activity and Alexander would watch the other curiously then slowly turn away, occasionally peeping over his shoulder in order to catch the man looking after him. He felt a sense of power having the stranger watching him and he could think of nothing more beautiful than the other’s downcast eyes whenever he was revealed.
Having lived a very sheltered life Alexander did not explore the…
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