Date: Sat, 28 Oct 2006 08:04:25 +0200
From: Peter C <Peter_Co@web.de>
Subject: Le Petit Mort

Copyright 2006 Peter Conrad -- Peter_Co@web.de

Hi, it's me again, the author of "Never saw a miracle" and "A new
Beginning", both to find in the gay highschool section. After a break
with translating my german stories into english for a while I started
again, and here is one of my really short short stories *g*.

BTW, "A new Beginning" is now available in print, if you want take a
look at it here:

***
Danny is your typical teenager: 17 years old, always fighting the
hurdles of life like boring school, an always worried mother, non
existing love life. And now he'll even get a step father and brother!
To top it all Danny has a little secret, a secret which isn't so secret
anymore: he's gay and desperately searching for his Mr. Right.

http://www.lulu.com/content/474356

Cover picture:

http://www.lulu.com/author/display_thumbnail.php?fCID=474356&fSize=zoom_
***

But now to the new story!

****

I'm dead, and that's how it happened:

When I woke up today I knew it: THIS was the day! Decision day! Today I
would take the plunge. No matter what the consequences would be. I
didn't care about anything anymore. I just had to do it -- and I had to
do it now!

What did I have to do? Oh. I guess I should explain my situation to
give you a better understanding of my sudden death. To start with the
beginning: I fell in love! Okay, that wasn't such a sudden development,
more like a for years always growing crush.

Now love usually isn't a reason to give up your mortal existence, but
for me the omens were not really good. You see, I'm a guy. And I fell
in love with: a guy! HELP! I'm gay! Horrible, isn't it? That was
exactly my reaction some five years ago when this realization hit me.

Now the target of my big crush carries this so wonderful melodic and
romantic sounding name Jerome. And not only the name is french, the
godly creature carrying it, too. Jerome came to our highschool in our
sophomore year, and the stupid idiot I am had nothing better to do than
falling for him head over heals! Just great, isn't it?

It all started quite harmless, I felt drawn towards him in a way I
couldn't really understand at this age. I'd never thought at this point
that this feeling was an expression of my just starting to creep around
homosexuality! It took me quite a while to realize the complete
significance of my feelings. When I finally reached this point I was at
the toilet for hours! Nervous stomach, you know? Well, at least this
gave me the time to think about this madness boiling in me. Three rolls
of toilet paper and half a lake of water later I had reasoned
everything and completed my inner coming out.

Now everything was okay you think? Ha! Think again. Okay, I accepted
being gay and in love with an extremely cute french boy -- but that was
it. This extremely cute french boy was totally out of my reach, and to
top it all every girl from 10 miles around was over him like a fly over
a freshly fallen horse dropping. Oh my god. Did I really just compare
Jerome with horse droppings? Oh no! Pardon, Jerome!

So I only could love him from afar, adore him, saving his image in my
brain for later usage. If you get my drift. But, even worse! Not only
from afar but directly beside me, too! We became good friends over the
years, this being both blessing and agony for me. Always being near
him, and still he was so totally out of reach. The years at school were
bad enough, but now we both did our mandatory civil service in the same
hospital, even on the same floor! What a torture!

Of course I never had the courage to confess my feelings to him. Not
even a little bit. Whoever knows me also knows, that my second name
starts with a "c" and ends with a "d". (No wonder that the number of
people knowing about me being gay could be counted with one finger of
one hand -- myself included!) I also didn't have the smallest clue how
Jerome was thinking about gays. If I was a little bit smarter I could
have included the topic unsuspiciously into our conversations, but I
never claimed to be a second Einstein. And it would have been to
dangerous anyways, Jerome is into kickboxing and sometimes a little
quick-tempered.

So while I was suffering from unreturned love, while I almost exploded
from this suffering, my friend Jerome lived a happy day to day live,
was flirting with the girls and had not the foggiest idea about my
agony. But over the last three or four weeks I realized more and more,
that I couldn't go on like this anymore. Another only vegetated month I
wouldn't survive -- so I guess I could just take the risk and tell
Jerome about my feelings for him. Better killed by him than dying
slowly by a broken heart.

And that's why I decided to confess, to make a clean sweep. The first
half of last night I spent memorizing my confession word for word -- the
second half belonged to a colourful mix of nightmares, all of them
revolving around every possible reaction from Jerome to my confession.
And all of them ending with my to early departure to the eternal
hunting grounds.

So this morning I put on my best clothes, paying special attention to
clean boxers. I mean, who wants to find himself on the pathology table
wearing streched out and dirty underwear! Especially being gay. You
have to look out for your good image.

We made a shopping date in the city, I thought that such a public place
with lots of people around us would slightly raise my chances of
survival. Then, when I noticed him being as cute as ever, I almost lost
my courage, resigning to my usual secret lusting after him. But then,
in a never before felt attack of courage (or despair?) I decided to go
through with my plans.

Of course this still took me much longer than planned, I stuttered and
started to hem and haw, until Jerome had it with me and asked bluntly
what was wrong with me. If I wanted to tell him something I just should
do so. And so I did. In the middle of the street.


And that's what I got for it. It's only a few hours later, and I'm dead.


By the way, directly beside me is Jerome, and he's dead, too.




As the french say: Le petit mort -- the small death.

What a beautiful expression for the best orgasm of my life!



EXPLANATION FROM THE AUTHOR

Because it seems that a few readers don't get the end correctly: NOBODY
DIED! "Le petit mort -- the small death" only is a synonym used by the
french for orgasm.