Date: Sat, 5 Oct 2002 15:19:12 +1200
From: Arthur <rochopa@xtra.co.nz>
Subject: flights of fancy part 1

				FLIGHTS OF FANCY

				Part One

				By Arthur


DISCLAIMER:

	The usual stuff applies here as to reading or making use of this story
	by bigots and such like or if you are of an age that adults think you
	should be treated like a child, then go no further as I will not be
	responsible for your actions.

	The copywrite for this story is held by the author and may not be used
	by any pay site or for profit without the express permission of the author.

	Now thats out of the way please read on and hopefully enjoy, if you have
	any comments I may be contacted at    rochopa@xtra.co.nz



How did this come about? there laying in front of me was the 'key' I had
spent thirty years searching for and I'm still not sure how it all
happened. I had, as was usual on a nice sunny day in the early afternoon,
gone to Cornwall Park to sit watching and listening to the families
picnicing and playing.

I had done this many times before to break the boredom and loneliness of my
life and to elicit some feeling of normallicy in what was no more than a
humdrum life of which everything was just plain average and 'normal' well
as normal as it is possible for a man like me.

I sat in the car (yes average car) parked so that I could see the playing
and picnic area before me, the warm sun shone through the windsheild and
warmed my chest as I gazed out at the scenes being played out before me.

On the green grass two pidgeons, one male, one female, strutted around as
the male attempted to seduce the female into a coupling, with his ruff
puffed out, tail spread and taking steps on his short legs that a ballroom
dancer would have been proud of, he continued make his advances to an
unsure female.

As they pranced and danced I could hear the prepubecent yells and screams
of delight as the children played on the swings and seesaw's "higher dad,
higher" laughing and urging on their parents. I can hear the fear and the
thrill as the father stood there pushing the swing harder, so proud, so
strong and yes underneath so arrogant as he showed his family to the
surrounding crowds.

"See, see how brave 'MY" son is, look at him, see 'MY' son"

Yes young man you have a right to be proud of the product of your loins,
something I will never achieve even though I dream, all I have is hollow
memories of lust and gratification, tempory measures to satisfy an inner
need, no feeling, no love, just lust.

An asian family sat on the gass not far from the car, mother spreading a
blanket on the ground and returning to their car for lunch baskets and
drinks as the two children stood before their father showing a nervous
respect as was his due, then as the father nodded off they went skipping
and laughing toward the seesaw, such delicate beauty, like porceline dolls.

Here I sat, an average man in an average car, living an average life, with
an average job, paying an average wage, nothing special just so bloody
average, from the corner of my eye I caught a movement that was no more
than a shimmer in my periferal vision, glancing in that direction I then
saw the 'key'.

Although I was not aware at that time that this was the 'key', I still took
in what I was seeing and I knew that it was sent to me by some unknown
force to pound at those long established brick walls that surrounded my
inner most feelings, that had protected me from the fear and harm of being
to close to others.

The sheer spirit and power of the 'key' was forcing itself into my wall,
chipping and breaking apart my solid sheild, crumbling it brick by brick
until it collapsed and the gap allowed the warm wind of change to come
rushing through, destroying any hope of continuing my self induced exile of
self pity.

I could not take my eyes from the 'key', it's strong burnished copper
color, the well formed shape, slender, solid, made to last for eternity,
set on this earth to break down the barriers of self loathing and
loneliness.

In the distance a small group of teenagers played touch rugby, throwiing
the ball about,shouting, grabbing at nearby youthful masculinity, pushing,
tackling, grass stains on their knees, torn shirt, lungs pumping in a show
of non ending virility.

Still the 'key' remained there, solid and stable with an all knowing aura
waiting for the last brick to fall and my soul to be bared, for my desires
to be made plain for all to see.

With the slight blur caused by my declining sight, I watched as the 'key'
floated toward my car, no sounds, no indication of acknowledgement,just a
shimmering smooth movement and then it was on the passenger seat, silent,
drawing my soul into it's depths, it moved and I started the engine
reversing out of the parking bay turning to my average flat only ten
minutes away.

Now here it is, the 'key' to what I was hoping would be new beginings,
please god don't let this be another nonsensicle test of my patience, my
desire to continue living, my need to end my life of mediocrity, Mr Joe
average.

Am I good looking? hell no, I'm average, am I well built? hell no, I'm
average, so what is average to me, height 5'9" (average) weight 160 lbs
(average) build slim, compact (average) age 58 (past average) eye's deep
blue, these I have been told, are the one item that makes me a little
different as people say that my eyes at certain time seem to penetrate
their souls and open their deepest thoughts for me to read, I personally am
not aware of this, although under stress I have noticed some people show a
sort of fear when I'm angry and as I'm not a big man and not normally
agressive it could explain the fear in their eyes.

And so why did this 'key' come to me, Mr. average, I looked again at the
flawless shape, the smooth copper finish, laying there waiting for me to
take it into my hands and caress it with shaking fingers, tracing the
curves, feeling the hardness, giving worship to the perfection created by a
higher being than I.

I felt and heard the vibrations emanating from the 'key', forcing
themselves into my consciousness, waking me from my stunned reverie as I
reached out my hands in eratic movements.

I heard again the vibrations, felt them penetrate my skin as I collapsed
down beside it aching with the pent up desires of thirty years.

"My name's Tio, Make love to me."


To Be Continued: