Ely's Awakening, by B.K. Wright

Intro:


“Ely’s Awakening” is demonstrative of society’s inability to accept the gay man and the damaging effects which this can produce, but also elucidates the extraordinary resiliency of these persons as they search for and discover a very satisfying life experience despite seemingly insurmountable odds.





Excerpt:
Galveston Island was as beautiful as everyone had said it was, with the quaintness of its main street, each store representing a small part of Americana in its purist form. It seemed that every shop specialized in one and only one salable item and perfected its prize until it was just right, and only then was it available to the people who called Galveston home as well as the many tourists who visited the island city every year.



Quentin watched him lovingly. He really liked Ely, yet was still unsure of Ely’s thoughts and feelings. Ely was a quiet young man, and Quentin wanted to be very careful how he approached him regarding his feelings.



The moon shone down on Ely’s skin illuminating the beauty of its youthful sheen, and Quentin felt his heart skip a beat. Quentin slowly made his way across the middle of the hot tub until he was standing directly in front of Ely. Ely didn’t know why Quentin had done this, but didn’t feel uneasy about it. He felt comfortable with Quentin and also felt that he could trust him. Quentin very subtly took both of Ely’s hands in his and looked into his eyes.




Ely was almost too good to be true, thought Quentin. He was beginning to feel the effects of the wine himself, and wine always made him hornier than any other drink. He motioned for Ely to sit with him on the bed which was also huge. It was perfectly round, which Quentin explained was because that was the shape of the world, and also because it had no end and no beginning just as he hoped his love for someone would be someday, as well as hopefully would be reciprocated.




Ely sat down on the bed next to Quentin. Simply being near Ely made Quentin’s heart beat rapidly. Ely hadn’t had much wine, but not being much of a drinker was feeling its effects nonetheless. Quentin took Ely’s glass and set it and his own on the table next to the bed. He took Ely’s hands in his and kissed him lightly on the lips. He was hoping that Ely wouldn’t pull away, but feared that he would. Ely didn’t pull away.



They fell limp on the bed, and lay on their sides facing each other. No words were spoken. There was no need. They looked at each other with the look of love, and after they had had time to catch their breath, they enjoyed one last kiss. Quentin was the first to speak.



~B.K. Wright~
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