Skip to main content

In Praise of Perry

 



What’s strange is, you had no idea Perry was gay. As much as you adored your big brother, this revelation blindsided you. So, when your parents threw him out of the house because of him coming out, you were of course devastated. Perry was your biggest role model. He was always so cool, and so caring. Whether it was him taking you for rides on the Harley, bringing you to his band’s shows, or simply keeping your deepest and darkest secrets; Perry was the best brother a kid could have.


Your parents had left the country for a while: a “business” trip in Canada. Of course you called Perry as soon as they left. About an hour after they left, Perry showed up in his typical bad boy get up. To everyone else on earth, he was the ultimate strong masculine figure. To you, he was the coolest brother, with a heart of gold. He walked through the front door, his trashed black chucks squeaking on the marble floors.


“Little man, I’m so glad you called.” He embraced you in a gigantic hug, his muscular arms constricting you. “I got a new place, so I’m pretty anxious to get my things into it.” You follow your brother into his bedroom, and help him pack a bunch of boxes. Clothes, posters, bedding, and three guitars. “Hey,” he quietly says, “You go on to bed, I’ll finish up here. And, if you ever wanna come and see me, here’s my address. Show up anytime.”


The next morning, you walk into your brother’s now barren room. A tear rolls down your face as you see the stripped bed, and the bare walls where Nirvana and Pearl Jam posters once graced the walls. However, sitting in the middle of the closet was a single cardboard box. Upon closer inspection, you realize it has your name written on it, with a post it note attached:


Little Man, this box is for you. Hope it helps you remember me, and find who you are like it helped me. Love you lil bro. Perry.


Opening the lid, you find a strange amalgamation of things. Perry’s favourite black tank, a pair of jeans, the pair of chucks he wore last night, and an iPod shuffle with earplugs. You quickly run into the bathroom, and strip your nightclothes. Putting on the clothes, you see just how much bigger your brother is than you. His clothes hang baggy from your much different frame. Putting in the earbuds, you hit play on the shuffle. Dirt by Alice in Chains begins playing, one of your brother’s favourites. You begin to notice your head bobbing to the beat of the music as Lane Staley’s voice sings into your mind. Filling it with grunge music. You feel yourself slipping away, quietly retreating onto your brother’s undressed bed. You close your eyes and let the music take you away. Unbeknownst to you, your legs begin to stretch and lengthen, filling out the jeans with lean muscle. The hair on your head retreats back into your head, turning a dark brown. Your torso bulks as you gain a nice, athletic build, a modest but evident 6 pack buckles on your abdomen. Your arms inflate considerably, packing pure meat on them, embossing them in ornate tattoo sleeves. Facial hair haphazardly pokes out of your now lean jawline and handsome visage, two gauged ears now flanking a sexy face. Your feet buckle and fill out your brother’s trashed chucks, filling out the size 12 sneakers. Opening your now brown eyes, a newfound confidence fills your mind. New memories overthrow the old.


You quickly take your trusty old Harley to your twin brother’s place, ready to join him and your bandmates for practice. Wouldn’t wanna miss it for the world.

Labels

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Predestination

  Promising Sunnmore University Ph.D. Candidate Missing Aug. 31, 2006 A promising research student has gone missing as of this past Wednesday from the Sunnmore University campus. Sean McDonough, a Ph. D. candidate studying genetics at the university, left Swampscott Hall at approximately 9:45 PM and did not show up for his office hours the following morning. Campus police state that the incident likely occurred during Wednesday night's freak storm while the University security cameras were down for scheduled maintenance that evening.  McDonough, a native of Providence, has been intimately involved in various secretive genetic studies conducted by Dr. Howard West and Dr. Delia Whateley. Motives remain plentiful behind his disappearance, but local authorities assure the community at large that there is no evidence yet of foul play. Fellow colleague and doctoral candidate Elias Delahaye remembers McDonough as a "brilliant scientist" and "dear friend." --- Carefully...
Post a Comment
Read more

Cult of Personality

 The blistering New Mexico heat bared down on Douglas' '99 Chevrolet Cavalier. The small blue coupe meandered up I-25, enroute from Las Cruces to Santa Fe. The old man quietly sighed to himself, fruitlessly trying to think of a better pitch to sell his Solar Panels to the rich folks up in Albuquerque. Las Cruces ended up being a bust, just as much as Tucson: the damn things were just too expensive up front. Not that the company gave a single damn, quotas are quotas. Thus, still empty handed, he passed the exit sign for Socorro- still an hour until he'd reach his destination. As he passed the exit, he noticed a bright red glint a bit further up the road. Douglas adjusted his glasses, squinting his eyes to see. He slowed down on the empty highway as the sight became clearer. It was a car. In fact, it was a bright red '67 Mustang; it's owner leaned on the hood as black smoke bellowed from the tailpipe. Douglas looked down at his watch, knowing fully well that he needed...
Post a Comment
Read more

Musky Leathers

  “Maksym, is that you?” Sam waved at the tall, muscular figure in the black leathers and helmet. Being neighbors for so long, it was inevitable that he and the Ukrainian would either come to blows or strike up a friendship. Fortunately, Maksym was an undeniable, irresistible stud- so to the normally cold and standoffish Samuel might have fallen ever so slightly for the stoic young man.  “Yes,” Maksym replied in his thick, bass-laden accent, “is new leathers for new bike. Cannot wear old, beat up white ones with shiny new black bike.” Though muffled from behind the confines of his black helmet, his commanding voice still bellowed proudly. He stared at his Instagram-model next door neighbor, with a slightly different perspective. Back home in Kyiv, people were proud, stolid, lionhearted. Their flat affect and fearlessness was a cultural expectation, and while he didn’t mind his uppity neighbor per se, it would be more accurate to describe his feelings as mild annoyance. Sure he...
Post a Comment
Read more