'After all Helena, you’re not yet a known writer, it’s always about first impressions, readers expect something else from women writers!' – her publicist was not taking it well. 'The reader would rather be enchanted!'
'Some characters are vile indeed but they are also victims.'
'Let’s be reasonable here, I don't even know how to define your writing!'
'Think of black tea, no sugar!'
Left by himself at the table, he snored the remaining lines and stepped into the men’s room: same white towels and there, he remembered the first time he had sex with a man, a team mate in spite of his fears, it gave him a sense of belonging and much needed security: ‘brothers’ they called each other - when one got the 'call', all others knew: 'today is the day, let’s make some history!’ - just like the ‘brotherhood of lay’ somebody suggested, dropping it like a can of beans.
They got themselves rings encrusted GIG ‘greed is good’ in gold and diamonds, a motivational gadget; he looked at his: ‘What happened to Ethan's? Oh, fuck Ethan, the loser! always a pussy!...I have to go home, I know what’s going on here!’
‘Bye Erick! You take care darling and see you soon!’
‘I’m not coming back to this shithole’ he said to himself, 'shithole' he whispered to the bodyguard in his way out.'
By Ioana Lostun - Sept. 2008 and 2013 - Image 'The Lighthouse" by Ioana
