More Than Water by Renee Ericson

Author:Renee Ericson [Ericson, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00YYDGW6A
Published: 2015-06-21T23:00:00+00:00

My hand dabs the brush across hues of umber and vermilion, combining them, resulting in a brilliant color of sunlight at dawn. I paint a sensual curve along the rib of my human canvas, depicting his molecular composition with shades of reality. The image of the hydrogen element, a nucleus surrounded by a singular circling proton, comes to life with the stroke of my hand. I strategically position it next to the rendering of the carbon particle on Foster’s pectoral muscle.

Over the last couple of days, Foster and I have spent a fair amount of time together since neither of us have any school or work obligations—or family ones, for that matter. His company has been easy and fun. It’s almost like having a girlfriend over for a long visit while we do nothing, other than eat and hang out.

Well, there’s the sex, too. That’s one thing I don’t tend to partake in with girlfriends.

Today started out no different than any other. We lunched at a local Indian restaurant where we dined on curry and naan bread, and then we headed back to my place to explore each other’s bodies more intimately. Actually, we fucked each other hard and fast and then fell asleep, exhausted.

After awaking from a short nap, an impulsion took over, and Foster became my study. I began drawing a number of profiles of him in my sketchpad while he slumbered next to me.

My hands worked furiously—depicting the shape of his nose, cheeks, chin, mouth, and body—over and over again with graphite, shading the tiny details making up the uniqueness that is him. It was somewhat strange, drawing him for the first time. There was something almost second nature about it. His face was one I’d come to know in a private way over the past several weeks, and my hands were channeling that knowledge.

When Foster finally awoke, he caught me in the act of taking advantage of him as an unknown model. He wasn’t upset by my interest to use him as a study. We then got into a discussion about the human form, and Foster—being the science-drawn person that he is—went on a tangent about what really made up a person from a chemical standpoint. He discussed the more elemental aspects of human life, explaining that all people were essentially made up of the same thing, a scientific balance of elements. He taught me that oxygen made up about sixty-five percent of our bodies.

No surprise to me that we are all made of air.

Of course, I went the philosophical route, pinpointing that we were all made up of moments of our pasts and our environments.

At first, I let him jabber on about all the technical and mechanical parts of the world—like he often does—but the more I listened, the more fascinated I became. He was so fierce in his diatribe that I got swept up in his energetic storytelling and how he viewed life through the details of science. Foster then went one step further,

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