Don Augusto will visit you in your dreams, if you are not careful!
And by you, we all know I mean ‘me.’
Or do I/we/you/they?
Anyway, a little less of the pedantry.
Wouldn’t want to end up like our Auggie, hm?
Ragged jock-strap akimbo, he desperately squeaks:
Many young men fall into temptation, because we don’t want to believe that what we were told was correct; it all seems so harsh, so austere.
Later on, we realise that we have left a whirlwind of destruction and torment behind us.
We realise that our desire for love, however innocent or sincere (on some level), it might have been, has led us to be rash and reckless; and there is some poetic justice in this word, then, after all.
The thin and flimsy sexual ethos of the day cannot satisfy us.
We hunger for something more.
We hunger for forgiveness, and repentance.
We do not know for sure what will become of us.
I hurl a projectile of some kind or another.
Warm, sweet, sticky, salt?
Any ho’s a goal!
Tumbling, crumbling, cracking, bumbling…
Down and round we go!
“I am no Icarus,” he shrieks to me!
“Indeed,” I roar, all a-Pyrrhic-victory.
“And I am no minotaur… Is it not so?”
George Frederic Watts [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
I have limited time and energy. What should my priorities be for the near future? Should I make a Don Augusto ebook, containing several of my stories up to now? Or some new ones too?
If you fund my Patreon, you can join the conversation, and help sculpt and influence the future course of my work!