Decadence by Eric Jerome Dickey

Author:Eric Jerome Dickey
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Contemporary, General, Romance, Erotica, Fiction, African American
ISBN: 9780525953838
Publisher: Dutton Adult
Published: 2013-04-23T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

That sonofabitch Chris had sent me his telephone number again and again and again and a-fucking-gain. Since we were members of the same club, I told myself that I was responding out of courtesy. I told him that it was okay to text. No calls. I didn’t want to hear his voice. Not ever again. Then he had insisted that I call him. So here we were. The sea-green eyes of my past stared into my unfriendly face. We used FaceTime, the cousin to Skype, the big brother to texting and e-mailing.

In my most irritated voice I said, “I’m writing so make it quick.”

“So brusque.”

“Exactly what did you want, Mr. Alleyne?”

He paused and in a kind tone he whispered, “Long time since we actually had a conversation.”

“Speak. Get to the point.”

After another pregnant pause he shrugged. “Have no idea where to begin. A lot was in my mind, on the tip of my tongue, and now that I’m sitting here looking at you, I have no idea where to start.”

“Say what you need to say so we can be done with it.”

And there we were, thanks to technology, many miles apart, yet face-to-face. I wanted to flee this moment. But I would never run from anyone again. I studied his face. His chin. His nose. His forehead. His lips. His eyes. I studied him as if he were a photograph that I had just removed from an old dusty box. It was not what I had expected. When a man came inside of you, he never left. I had heard that many times. I had never truly believed that. Not until I sat and stared at him. We had not been alone, not since back in the day. Despite that ending, that horrible ending, I felt our intimate energy, even in this setting.

We said things about Decadence, again keeping the conversation safe as we spoke of the architecture of the establishment, the art, the sculpture, and then the Sinner’s Bible that greeted all upon entry.

He said, “The Bible is nothing more than an astrotheological literary hybrid.”

“Nice to know that even though you cut your locks, some things haven’t changed.”

He laughed.

I said, “Just to think I dated and fell in love with an Aquarius.”

“And once again, as I have stated before and will again and again, anyone who wants to use celestial placements in order to explain the fate and behavior and destiny of people is a moron. No scientific evidence has ever been found to support astrology’s claims.”

“Aquarius and Gemini. That’s what I get.”

“I don’t believe in astrology or any superstitions invented by man, but in this case, even with its falsities, I should’ve heeded that arrangement and all of the warnings that have precluded its union.”

I understood his rambling, his going back to that familiar place, to that conversation. He was nervous. Our foundation was built on such conversations. And in that moment, in my mind, I was in a long-ago place, a faraway place, a place before the pain that interrupted pleasure.

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