The Old Flame








I bought a house in Brindleton Bay.  It was a big house.  The kind of house I’d have bought for mom and dad to come live with me.  Maybe it’s a bit much with its five bedrooms, but you never know where life’ll take you, I guess.


I spent the first few days just doing my normal routine.  Working out…


…doing chores…


…and watching B movies.  It wasn’t the most exciting life, but sometimes the best thing you can hope for is simple and quiet.  Things get very complicated the more noise you have going on around you.  Better to just relax and take a load off.


Major-league relaxing.  After graduating and moving and all the emotions that were swarming over me having finally moved to Brindleton Bay, I just needed to get myself into a zone; some place where I was at peace and relaxed.  And I tried everything…



It was hard to relax, though.  Winter was in full swing and before I even felt at home in the new place, Winterfest and rolled in and I was not prepared for it.  I woke up Winterfest morning and all the memories of mom and dad and opening presents and big dinners just filled my thoughts.


So I decided to dedicate my time to decorating for the holiday.  Though, to be honest, I should have decorated the day before.  A blizzard was moving in and man was it cold outside.  Still, the house looks nice.  Dad would’ve been proud.  He would’ve been standing at the edge of the drive way says, “Ah, sonny boy.  You made the house look good.  No doubt learned it after watchin’ your old man all these years.”

I decided to cook a grand meal….


…and I ate it alone…


I decided to hit up the Salty Paw to get out of the house and try to get some holiday cheer.  Cooking a big meal for only yourself was not what Winterfest should be about.

While down at the Salty Paw, I ran into none other than Father Winter himself….


…we talked about the blizzard that was raging outside, then he started singing some Winterfest songs and we all joined in.  It was amazing.  It was just what I needed to bring my happiness up to a level I hadn’t had in a long time.  Then he called me over to the side…


“Sergio,” he said in his cheery voice, “a little something from me to you.  Just a little present to wish you a very happy day.”

“Thanks!” I said with excitement as I opened it.  “A Crystal Clear Camera!  Aww YIBS!”

Then I decided it was time to go.  The weather was getting bad.  I didn’t want to get caught at a bar all night long with Father Winter and a ghost.


The next day, I had a surprise visitor…


…Becky Radnor.  She was the girl I lost my virginity to in high school.  She was a cheerleader and I was on the soccer team.  One day after the Homecoming Game, we had a little too much to drink and, well, let me just say that a little WooHoo in a bush is uncomfortable but exciting.

We’d lost touch after we graduated.  She went off to New York to study art while I hung around here.  I heard she was dating some businessman from Manhattan, but that ended after he decided that he preferred foreign brides to local ones.  She left New York and last I heard she had moved out to the West Coast.  I never expected to see her again, let alone knocking at my front door at 8 in the morning.

We went down to the Salty Paw to hang out and we talked about old time and how she’d decided to come back home because she needed to get back to her roots.  She told me that she needed to be able to find herself again.  I have no idea what she was looking to find by coming back to this part of the world, but I hope she finds it.  She’s a good girl even though she’s also been a little flighty.

After the Paw, we went back to my place.  And I don’t know what happened.  Maybe it was the drinks….


…but it felt like old times again.  There was a connection.  Like two people who were supposed to be in each other’s lives in this moment.  No idea why I got that feeling….


….but to say that we hit it off didn’t, in the least, begin to describe what was happening…


… and it happened quickly.  It was intense.  It was overpowering….


…it was amazing….


..and… oh shit.

10 thoughts on “The Old Flame

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