Date: 20 Jul 2005 17:10:35 -0000
From: chomas (at) phreaker (dot) net
Subject: The Bracelet - Series 1 Episode 3 [Gay > Adult-Youth]
[-]======================================================================[-]
_ _ _ _ _
| |_| |_ ___ | |__ _ _ __ _ __ ___| |___| |_
| _| ' `/ -_) | '_ ` '_/ _` / _/ -_) / -_) _|
`__|_||_`___| |_.__/_| `__,_`__`___|_`___|`__|
^%% SERIES 01 - EPISODE 03 %%^
... Hair Cut ...
[-]======================================================================[-]
=: D I S C L A I M E R :=
This work of fiction may contain references to sexual conduct between
minors and consenting adults. If this is illegal in your area of
residence you are advised to leave - you are breaking the law.
The characters, story and occurances in this document are purely
fictional, and any resemblence or relation to real life situations or
people living or dead is, frankly, fucked up.
=: I N T E L L E C T U A L P R O P E R T Y :=
This story is held under the intellectual property of "Chomas", which
means it may not be distributed in whole, or in part, without express
written permission from the author. You may not print, copy, mirror or
in any other way distribute this for the purposes of public consumption
or monetary gain.
=: T H E A U T H O R :=
In the words of Stranger, "You gotta light the stove to warm the pan".
And I hope this episode lights your stove, because it gets a helluva
lot more interesting from here ...
I'm sorry, the wrong e-mail address for me sneaked into the last
episode. If you sent anything to "chomas@hotmail.com", I have no idea
who the poor guy is, and could you please send it again to the
address below? Thanky.
-- Chomas <chomas AT phreaker DOT net>
[-]======================================================================[-]
=: S 0 1 E 0 3 - H A I R C U T :=
I woke up around 3am with the television quietly in the background. I
pulled my uncomfortable frame out of the chair and stumbled to the
bathroom to relieve myself. I never liked waking up in the armchair,
I rubbed my aching shoulder while comically shaking my dead leg to
relieve the pins and needles.
With my business finished, I ran my hands through my hair as I turned
round to find a place to rest my head again. Now I remember this bit
very clearly, and almost a thousand things flew into my head at once,
instantly drawing together an undeniable conclusion that knocked me
(literally) onto my ass in the bathtub within a second. And it went
like this.
I have a shaved head, grade two. I used to have a lot more hair than
that, so running my hands through my "hair" wasn't an immediate shock
- I even muttered to myself about needing a hair cut before it kicked in.
I've now got a full head of hair. Just as it occured to me I shot my
eyes up to meet the passing mirror as I was turning around to go to bed.
As my body kept spinning my mind began to join it as I realised the hair
in my hand is blonde, quite long, and surrounding the angelic face of
a green-eyed eleven year old boy. My hair, my face.
Now at this point my mind was reeling in a semi-dream state and my brain
forgot to tell my body to stop spinning, at which point I collided with
the side of the bathtub and had no real motivation to try and stop
myself. BAM. I thudded into the bath, banging my head against the back
tiles, giving me a good waking jolt in the process.
I was definitely awake, definitely eleven, and definitely quite good
looking. What .. the .. hell ..
I spent the next half an hour very slowly taking in the view of the
full length mirror. I checked all over my "new body" trying to get to
grips with what was going on. I ran my hands over my face and chest,
my mouth gaping through most of the process. Then it occured to me to
talk.
"Fucking hell," I said in a loud voice. I immediately started laughing,
hearing such a vehement expletive in such a sweet voice. I was quite
high-pitched, but with a tiny croak echoing behind it.
"Man, this is so weird, I can't believe this is happening. I mean what
the.." as I carried on a monologue for the next 20 minutes, pacing
around my flat in continuous circles, my conversation pretty much doing
the same thing.
Taking a step back, I tried to think about this as detached as possible
to get an overall idea. Okay, implications first of all.
No work.
Heh, now that's something I could live with for a while.
No car, no driving, no income.
That stung.
No cigarettes or wine.
I winced again. Less to spend money on though.
No flat, no business meetings, in fact nothing an adult can do.
That was definitely a problem. I was effectively homeless and there
wasn't a lot I could do about it. But maybe that's what I needed was a
totally fresh start in life, and there were plenty of charities and
government schemes to help homeless eleven year olds. With total memory
loss, no history, no paperwork, in fact no sign of existance prior to
this. Now that would take a lot of explaining, and I smiled inwardly
knowing I would be the last person who'd have to!
[-]======================================================================[-]
Authored: 09-Jul-05 By: Chomas <@phreaker.net>
Special thanks to the Nifty Archives for hosting my publications
[-]======================================================================[-]