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Life is only what you wonder.

Tuesday, July 08, 2003

A Five Minute Story

A Pound of Flesh


He was a glutton, a sensualist and a hedonist. He lived his life as though each day would be his last.
He was 48 (going on 49) and he looked every day of it. He was cocky, and arrogant, strutting around like a rooster in a henhouse. In his little mind he owned the world. The rest of us only lived here.

In short, he was a pig.
As a matter of fact, his skin was bright pink, just like a pig.
He was grossly fat. Rolls of fat over more doughy rolls of fat, surrounded by even more fat. (Did I mention he was a glutton?)

Eating was like breathing to him.
He drank an obscene amount of alcohol. An amount that would cause most men to pass out barely even gave him a buzz.

He favored young boys, barely eighteen. Hustlers, who he would pick up driving his SUV down the main strip in the seedier part of town. He would have preferred not to have to pay for sex, but for some reason, guys just weren't attracted to him. He couldn't figure out why.

The huslers he picked up called him "Jabba", although not to his face. He would pay extra to have them shower with him and spend the night. To hold his large gross body while he slept.

At night he would sleep with his paid-for boy in his large bed, wrapped up in a silky cocoon of satin sheets.

Most nights he did not dream.