Twilight seemed to fall like a blanket over his surroundings so suddenly, as he continued his journey home. The world outside of his car became repetitive, which distorted the true passage of time.

 

He knew it was not unusual when driving interstate, changes to the roads and scenery was dramatic, however, his awareness of everything being completely different all of a sudden, caused him to question exactly where he was and exactly how he came to be there.

 

He felt like he had just awoken from sleep because his awareness seemed disjointed. It was not only the landscape outside of his car that was different, daytime was concluding as well and strangely he had not noticed the changes taking place. As if a magician had snapped his fingers, one moment Tom had been somewhere and the next moment he was somewhere else. It was unsettling to say the least because time seemed to have missed a beat.

 

What seemed like only minutes before, daylight and his surroundings seemed perfectly natural and he felt completely at ease. Now it seemed an entire portion of his journey had gone missing and the day was coming to an end. He was not sure why he did not notice everything changing but when he finally did notice, from the core of his being, everything seemed a little off kilter.

 

Though his next thought certainly could not explain what was happening, he wondered, “Did I unknowingly take the wrong turn?”

 

A wall of dark green and deep brown on either side of the road was moving passed him, when his mind came back to the present. It was the moment when the subtlety of uncertainty made itself known. Immediately he felt unnerved by the unpopulated nature of his surroundings. What seemed only a blink of an eye beforehand, infrastructure and vehicles were everywhere and people were walking and going about their day.

 

He did not recall the setting of the sun, he did not recall leaving a six-lane highway and entering onto a two-lane road and he certainly did not remember when the road began to slice its way through a very dense forest. Now there was not a building, a car or a person in sight.

 

Twelve hours of driving south had been fundamentally uneventful. He guessed he was approximately three hours from reaching any of the outlying areas of Sydney, at least the areas he would consider familiar. What was really bothering him was his inability to recall driving through a forest almost two weeks ago, on the day he began his journey north to Queensland, to visit his old friend from school.

 

As twilight deepened, from caution more than any other reason, he moved his hand from the steering wheel and turned on his headlights. A whispered thought ran through his mind; “Maybe I should turn around and go back?”

 

The road he was traversing was so flat he felt certain he could lay a builder’s level on the surface and the indication bubble would not deviate from its centre. Still, relentlessly the black tar rolled beneath his car and the seemingly identical trees continued to pass him by.

 

Darkness came quickly and when he finally noticed the complete lack of streetlights, as well as no telephone poles or wires, a moment later something else caught his attention. Through the windscreen he glanced up from the tar of the road and looked ahead. A full moon in the far distance floated above the horizon. It was positioned dead centre of the road between the trees. Initially he thought the vista looked a little creepy, as the moon’s soft light silhouetted the outline of the distant trees and made them look kind of ominous.

 

As he stared at the entire scene of a long, straight road being protected by the wall of trees on either side, the passage became like a tunnel with the moon the light at its end. In his mind the globe seemed like a guide, ushering him to continue in the direction he was travelling.

 

With the passage of time his hands held firm without adjustment of the steering wheel, as he tried to maintain concentration on a road that was seemingly unending and unwaveringly straight. Irrespective of his headlights that shone ahead or the moon that shone far off in the distance, the road between both forms of light was dark and revealed nothing.

 

Trying to dispel his discomfort and confusion of where he was and how he got there, Tom smiled as he thought about the man he had just spent nearly two weeks with. Years ago they had been close friends until Derik and his family moved to Queensland. They had gone to school together and been mates but their relationship changed when Tom came out to Derik at fifteen. The reason it changed was because Derik’s response to Tom’s revelation was, “So am I.”

 

As a consequence of being the first person either had told, their relationship changed a second time because eventually they also became each other’s first sexual encounter. It had been boyhood stuff and teenage stuff but what happened in the last two weeks was far from childish play and exploration. Now adults in their late twenties, Tom and Derik had ravished each other’s naked bodies for ten days.

 

Feeling his growing erection from his salacious thoughts of their time together, Tom smiled a little lasciviously. He wished he could call Derik and tell him how hot he thought their time together had been. Unfortunately he had left his phone at Derik’s house and had been unwilling to drive nine hours in the opposite direction to retrieve it. Earlier he had stopped in a town and made a call and asked Derik to send it to him as soon as possible.

 

Tom’s smile faded guiltily. Derik had sounded a little pissed off with him on the phone and Tom knew why. It was because of the irrational reason Tom had left Derik’s place early. Their almost relentless sex had been hot, sweaty and irresistible throughout the days and nights, at least until he woke from a dream on the tenth day.

 

After waking from the dream he tried to push the negative feelings away but they seemed embedded and refused to fade. His thoughts were disturbed and unsettled and even though he knew it was unreasonable, Tom made the strangest choice. He suddenly felt a desperate need to get in his car and drive all the way home to Sydney. It made no sense and really was an unusual choice because Tom would never turn his back on wild and unlimited sex. Additionally, he was meant to be staying with Derik for fourteen days.

 

Just like Derik and many other men, emotional or long-term commitments were not a consideration in Tom’s life either. Ever since finishing school, in between normal life, Tom was obsessed with picking up guys and fucking during every spare second he had available. In fact, “normal life,” as he referred to it, always felt like an obstruction to all the opportunities he knew he could have with random guys.

 

It was the excitement and the freedom of sex with no strings attached that made him feel alive. He loved the chase, he loved hooking-up and his most favourite things in the world were naked men, hard cocks and hot, insatiable sex. Tom thought if he did not have to waste his time on things like eating, working and sleep, there would be nothing else he would ever do.

 

As far as he was concerned, his primary nature was that of a sexual being, which required him to feed its hunger as often as possible. The idea of being in a relationship or tied to one man did not sit comfortably with Tom and he justified his aversion to commitment with the phrase, “True love is a fantasy.”

 

It was the reason the dream, which was not a one-off, always got on his nerves and made him angry. Often the dream occurred when he was sleeping after a wild sexual encounter but whenever it occurred, it always left him in a bad mood when he awoke. Tom had been having the same dream for over a decade but until that day, never had it caused him to walk away from sex, like it had with Derik.

 

Despite the fact he had the dream so often, Tom never actually recalled the events or details of the dream. All he ever remembered was he was with some man he felt like he knew, even though when he awoke, he was certain he did not know the man at all. The most irritating thing about the dream was that every time he woke up after having it, though he did not know why, he was always filled with frustration and angry feelings.

 

Time continued to move forward as the road continued to move beneath the car. Though the road was unmarked, after a while he was falling into a type of white-line fever. The unchanging movement of trees and tar were no different to road markings. He gazed ahead, his concentration intent but faltering, as a hypnotised consciousness slowly gripped him.

 

As a consequence of his altered state of consciousness, even though he was awake and driving and staring straight ahead, the man from his dream moved like a vision through his mind. The man had such an incredibly handsome face and his extraordinary hazel eyes were piercing. More golden-brown then yellow-green, the eyes of the man unsettled Tom. As he looked at the face he felt uncomfortable and then he lowered his gaze to an awesome, naked body. The man was tall, very solid and muscular while simply irresistible from head to toe.

 

Though he was not aware of the division in his consciousness, Tom was suddenly no longer in his car or driving. He was in a small dwelling and everything around him looked really old. He felt fear and sadness as he watched the man he loved so deeply, get out of bed, put on his military uniform and then pick up his weapon.

 

The man turned around and as he looked down at Tom lying where they had just made love, Tom jumped from the bed and with pleading eyes he said in Russian, “Please don’t go, not today. I have a bad feeling.” His lover looked back at him, pulled Tom against his big and powerful body and then in Russian also, he asked, “Will you always love me?” Tom smiled at the man and replied, “Until the end of time.” The man returned a curious look and asked, “No one else but me?” Tom reached out, laid his hand against the man’s chest and said, “There’ll never be anyone but you.” The man pulled Tom against him and kissed him hard. Forcing Tom to release his embrace, the man turned away, walked out of the dwelling and closed the door.

 

Even though it was not a dream, it was like a vague remnant of memory pushing to the fore of Tom’s mind. The moment the door closed, the memory faded and Tom’s mind began to come back to the present. Once again, though, as the memory faded, his memory of the memory faded as well.

 

Generally Tom thought there had to be some reason why the man kept appearing in his dreams. Whenever he actually dreamt of the man, just before the angry feelings came, he always awoke feeling like he had only seen the beginning of a movie and did not know how it ended. He always felt like there was so much more he needed to know.

 

Back in his car and back in the present, as if waking from sleep, except that his eyes were still open, for the second time the road came back into focus. He had no idea how long he had been on this road that was slicing through this forest but once again, he felt like he had missed something and even more so, Tom felt like he had lost time.

 

“Shit,” he said, as he glanced at the clock on the dash and realised how right he was.

 

It was now nine-thirty at night, he was still on the same road and everything around him was exactly the same. He considered that the last vehicle he remembered seeing, had to be before the sun had even set. He wondered why he had not seen another car and why there were no other vehicles?

 

Again Tom considered turning back but then he felt sure that following hours of driving in the same direction, by now he must be close to a town or something that resembled modern day society. He therefore decided he should continue on.

 

Glancing up he saw that his full and bright guide was gone. The moon had obviously continued its journey across the sky. The only illumination he had now was from the headlights of his car. He adjusted in his seat, straightened his posture and after cracking the window two inches for some fresh air, he reached to turn on some music. He smiled immediately when he heard the track begin. He was a fan of Creedence Clearwater and he knew the song so well.

 

“I put a spell on you,

Because you’re mine,

You better stop the thing that you’re doin’,

I said watch out, I ain’t lyin’.

 

Yeah, ain’t gonna take none of your foolin’ around,

Ain’t gonna take none of your puttin’ me down,

I put a spell on you,

Because you’re mine.”

 

As the song played loudly and Tom sang along, he felt wide awake and like he was back to normal. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and nodded his head to the beat but all of a sudden the song began to bother him. It was the oddest thing but he felt irritated, if not angry, to his core. He did not know why because he loved the song but the muscles and tendons in his body grew tense, as the electric guitar screamed its riff into his ears.

 

When the song began to repeat the same words for the second time, he began to feel angrier. Unable to listen to it any longer, Tom reached down and turned the CD off. A song he loved was suddenly like fingernails down a chalkboard. He tensed up even more and said, “What the fuck is going on?”

 

Turning his mind back to his time with Derik in Queensland, he wished he were still there and fucking Derik’s brains out. It had been so good to see him again and the thing he really liked was that he and Derik were exactly the same. Unlike some guys Tom occasionally hooked-up with, with Derik there was no talk of love or emotions and no talk of the sex leading to something more. With Derik it was just the way Tom liked it. Two naked and sweaty men grabbing and touching and sucking and fucking, it was about nothing more then the heat and the hunger of getting down and really dirty with each other while feeding all of their respective needs.

 

“Damn it was fucking hot,” he said, as he recalled just one moment of the last ten days.

 

Unexpectedly the straight, flat road vanished in front of Tom’s eyes but just as he gasped in shock, the car’s angle changed as it began to descend a hill. Tom chuckled. It was so dark between the trees that when the hill began, his headlights had no road to shine on and it looked like he was about to drive off a cliff. He shook his head and chuckled again.

 

The road was still as straight as a ruler-drawn line, as he continued down the hill. It was a long descent because it took nearly one and a half minutes to reach the bottom of the hill, before the road levelled out again. He drove on, though, at least another ten minutes before he once again questioned the wisdom of not turning back. There was still nothing and nobody and still no car headlights were behind him or in front of him. It was only his headlights that revealed he was still in this relentless forest.

 

Cla-clunk. Cla-clunk. Clank, clank, clank.

 

Tom’s face altered instantly before he whispered, “No. Please, no.”

 

The car’s engine shuddered, coughed and then died. As the sudden near silence consumed his ears he quickly reached and put the gear into neutral. He had not touched the break and so the car was still rolling. Unfortunately, the road was so flat yet again, he was therefore loosing speed.

 

“Please let there be a house or something? Don’t leave me alone out here without a phone,” he yelled angrily.

 

Almost immediately as he stared at the surroundings within the illumination of his headlights, on the left side of the road he saw what he thought was a turn. As the car rolled closer, he realised it was a dirt driveway and he sighed with relief he was not going to be waiting for someone to come along or be required to walk for hours to find some life as he knew it.

 

As his car rolled and he turned the steering wheel, the last of his momentum carried him about fifteen feet until he passed through a gate. The dirt was deep brown and slowing his momentum and the moment the car was completely inside the gate, it stopped. Ahead of his position was more of the dirt road leading into darkness and yet again, more trees on either side.

 

Straining to look ahead, Tom flicked his lights to high beam but all that action achieved was to show him more of the same vista. He knew he was going to have to get out and walk but he hoped he would find someone to help him and let him make a call.

 

As he got out of the car and began to walk it was so unnervingly dark. The multitudes of trees were barely silhouettes and even the dirt beneath his feet was only just visible. Tom felt like he was in the middle of a horror movie and subsequently he began to feel like behind every tree were secret eyes watching him. With a sudden memory he turned around and returned to his car.

 

When he began walking again, his little halogen torch he kept in his glove compartment came in very handy. It allowed him to see where he was and where he was going, in spite of the fact he still felt nervous. As he continued to walk he was imagining a man in a mask jumping out in front of him wielding a machete. It was so silent and there were no sounds of insects, bats, birds or animals of any type. It was deathly quiet, irritatingly dark and the whole situation felt unsettlingly wrong.

 

After a five-minute walk up the dirt driveway, which suddenly curved to the left, his little torch finally revealed a house. It was a single story, freestanding house but there were no lights on inside. It was not that late to Tom but he sighed as he worried he might have to wake someone up. Alternatively, if no one was home, he wondered how long he might have to sit in his car and wait until someone returned.

 

What seemed strange to Tom was that the house looked like an old farmhouse but where the driveway came to an end, a small rectangle of beautifully maintained, lush green lawn was situated between the dirt and the house. It did not match the surrounding forest and nor did it match the house or the driveway.

 

The thing that made it stand out was that at the lawn’s centre, a small, round, manmade pool about eight feet in diameter, with walls made of blonde stone about two feet tall, surrounded a small volume of water. It looked to Tom like something that would be seen in front of a mansion because rising from the centre of the water was a statue. It was human size, about six feet or so tall but even more incredible, it was a completely naked man with wings.

 

With still about fifteen feet before he reached it, Tom stopped in his tracks, shone the torch directly onto the statue and was amazed. It may have been night and dark but in the torchlight the statue looked so impressive. He thought the face was unbelievably handsome and looked lifelike. He looked down at the body and like the statue of David except bigger and more muscular in physique; it looked like it had been sculpted with someone in mind.

 

Allowing his eyes to move slowly, Tom let his gaze drift down to the cock and balls. The scrotum was large, round and tight. The flaccid cock was at least four inches long and was fat and meaty with a flaring knob. Tom could not help his imagination and he vividly pictured the length and thickness grown to an assumed hardness. Instantly horny as he thought of sucking a big cock, he began to walk again, wanting to see the statue even closer.

 

As he approached, Tom looked at the massive wings and assumed the enticing statue was meant to be an angel. Deciding angels were genderless with no genitalia, he decided it was just a man with wings. Regardless, Tom thought it was so handsome and impressive. Whatever stone had been used to sculpt the statue, gave it a tan to bronze colour that reflected the torchlight and seemed to shine. He could not take his eyes off it and in fact, his intrigue for the statue had stolen his mind; forcing him to forget what had happened, why he was even there or the phone he required to get some help.

 

The moment Tom reached the pool he climbed up onto the surrounding wall. It was smooth, flat and wide enough for a person to sit on. He could not move the torchlight from the masculine, naked statue. Standing on top of the wall and staring eye-to-eye with it, he realised if he entered into the shallow water, the statue would be a couple inches taller than him. Tom then began to walk around the pool wall and look at the statue from every angle. No matter where he was on the wall, he was entranced and enthralled by this magnificent piece of art.

 

At first sight Tom had thought the statue looked mighty in its stance but when he came closer it appeared gentle and comforting. As he walked around it, the muscles on its back where the wings grew out looked large and powerful. As for the wings themselves, they were intricate in detail, the feathers obviously given individual treatment and concern by the sculptor. Somehow they appeared to look like the softest satin. Stone that looked like satin made no sense to Tom but he could not care less in the sight of such beauty, magnificence and sexual allure. He lowered his eyes and gazed at the most beautiful, taut and tight butt cheeks, which enticingly seemed to call to him to partake.

 

When he returned to the front of the statue, though Tom did not understand how he had not noticed it before, the two powerful arms of the statue were outstretched, as if beckoning for someone to walk into its embrace. Tom swore that before he had walked around it, the arms had been down, its hands seeming to gesture to enter the water.

 

Finally Tom stopped directly in front and gazed at the face. His expression was almost curious, as he held some recall or vague recognition of the statue that was looking back at him. It seemed so strange and yet, somewhere deep inside, Tom could have sworn he knew the face of the statue.

 

Click.

 

Following the unexpected, singular sound that instantly caught his attention, for a brief moment there was a different sound, exactly like unoiled door hinges creaking. Tom’s mind snapped back to reality and he turned, stepped down to the ground and changed the direction of the torchlight toward the house. The house was still in darkness, there was still no one around and as he turned slowly, he lowered the torch beam to the ground and using its peripheral light, he looked at all the trees where the clearing around the house ended. Slightly scary trunks and branches stretched, curled and reached out but no movement or anything else was visible.

 

Feeling an almost reasonable shiver down his spine, Tom turned back to the house and walked swiftly toward the front door. Immediately his eyes moved to the space between the doorframe and the partially ajar door. He froze momentarily, as he associated the click and the creaking with the open door. He wondered if someone was watching him but not making his or her presence known? He listened studiously for sounds inside but then finally he thought, “Stop being a child and knock on the fucking door.”

 

He looked at the door and saw a large and heavy doorknocker and instantly he lifted it and pushed it hard three times. The door opened about three inches farther as a consequence and the same unoiled hinge sound, occurred again.

 

Waiting patiently for about a minute, there was no sound of approach or any human response. He pushed the noisy door half open and called out, “Hello. Is there anyone there? Is there anyone at home?”

 

After patiently waiting another minute while turning and looking back at the wings and arse of the exceptional statue, Tom finally pushed the door wide open and stepped into the dark house. He could smell heavy dust and he lifted the torch and shone it around. He was standing in a small entrance hall and to his left was an archway that opened into a living room. Spider webs were everywhere and furniture was covered with sheets. It was obvious no one had been in the room for years.

 

With an about face he looked at the other side of the entrance hall. Another arch led to another room. Just as Tom began to walk toward it, he noticed a small, semicircular table against the wall between the arch and the front door. On top of it was a single candle in a candlestick and beside it was a Bic lighter. He thought the lighter seemed out of time and should have been a box of matches but he dismissed the thought, lit the candle, turned off his torch and walked into the room.

 

The room he entered was an enormous bedroom. It contained a huge old bed against the wall, allowing its occupant to be able to look out the front window. Tom looked out the window and stared at the statue again. He then looked around the room. There was a dresser with mirror, there was a bedside chest of drawers, there was a huge, old-fashioned wardrobe and in the corner by the door there was a coat stand with an umbrella holder beneath it.

 

Curiously, Tom noticed nothing was covered with sheets and there were no spider webs. The room appeared very clean and smelled fresh. He wondered if someone actually lived in the house, if maybe they spent all of their time in the bedroom. He turned, left the room and walked toward the back of the house.

 

At the rear of the entrance hall was an open doorway that led into a kitchen. Nothing in the kitchen was covered with sheets but it was still very dusty. It was a large, old-fashioned kitchen with a massive old stove and oven, a big, old icebox, obviously warm, dry and empty, and at the centre of the room was a beautiful, wooden table that could easily seat ten people. Regardless, only four chairs were pushed beneath the table.

 

Noticing two closed doors side-by-side on the left of the kitchen, Tom walked over and opened the first. It was a pantry, empty excluding the couple cockroaches that ran behind two empty jars and also, a rat that scurried across the floor and through a hole in the corner.

 

Walking out and closing that door, the second door offered a short hallway and Tom walked its length toward another door just behind a spiral staircase, which went down beneath the house. He opened the door to a smaller room and this appeared to be a child’s or teenager’s room. Some furniture was covered, though there was not much inside.

 

Stepping out and closing the door, Tom went down the tight spiral stairs. At the bottom was a huge room built beneath the back of the house. There was a large door on the backside that was not only closed but also, a heavy, rusted chain held it locked in place. Tom knew the door led outside behind the house but the fact the room was under the house suggested the backyard was much lower than the front where he had entered.

 

At the centre of the room was an unusual table. It reminded him of the metal tables where Veterinarians looked after animals. The difference was this table was made of wood and had odd hooks sticking out from underneath, as if for tying something down. There were also large feathers on the floor around it, one of which he picked up, admired and then put in his pocket. Tom looked at the rear wall opposite the door and all manner of chains hung silent, still and rusting.

 

A sound frightened him suddenly. Feeling very unsettled, Tom turned harshly toward the backdoor that was chained closed. Outside the door he heard a flapping noise like a large bird landing. Wondering what it was he took off double-time up the stairs. He ran to the kitchen window he had seen earlier and looked out. There was no backyard to speak of, just a hill leading down before being devoured by the forest. Unfortunately there was no movement and nothing to see but he did hear the sound of the bird flying up and over the house.

 

Turning to the right side of the kitchen in the direction of where the icebox was located, Tom noticed another doorway he had not seen before. He moved toward it, opened it and discovered a combined laundry and bathroom. He walked in, used the toilet that seemed modern by comparison to the rest of the house and then finally made his way back toward the large bedroom. As he stepped into the room, he sat down on the bed and wondered how much time this house had seen. It seemed like a mixture of old and new and yet the façade seemed so strong and sturdy, like it had stood for only a few years.

 

Unexpectedly he felt tiredness overcoming him. Though he was unsure, his mind leaned toward the idea the house was not occupied and so he decided to stay until morning. He was hungry but decided food would have to wait until tomorrow. He had to find some help when the sun rose and he had no idea how far he would have to walk. Again he wondered if someone was living in this, the only clean room and if they would come home to discover his illegal entry? Angry or not he would deal with it if it happened.

 

Yawning, he looked at his watch; it was eleven thirty. He stood up, walked out and closed the front door and locked it. He walked back into the bedroom and stripped naked. He pulled down the covers, reclined onto the bed but because it was summer and hot, he did not pull the covers over his body.

 

Putting the two pillows together to prop himself up initially, he lay back, sighed, yawned again and then stared at the awesome statue outside the window. He wished it were facing the window so he could see the handsome face, the irresistible body and the impressive cock and large, round balls. His eyes began to close and he turned and blew out the flame.

 

As Tom began to drift into sleep, his last thoughts were, “I’m sure the myth says angels have no gender or genitals and so if it was meant to be an angel, the statue is anatomically incorrect. It’s a shame because that means if there were such a thing as hot angels, they wouldn’t be sexual beings. Not having a gender, shit, what would be the point? What a waste of such desirable beauty.”

 

As Tom fell deeper and deeper into sleep it was not long before he began to dream. The first thing he saw was a naked, young man that seemed somehow familiar. The young man was pouring water into a pool from a large, old style, solid silver jug.

 

Standing against a wall, Tom was facing the pool at the centre of the room. Scented oils seemed to fill the room as they rose from the warm water the young man was pouring into it. Tom turned and looked at the young man and suddenly he knew his name was Thomasius.

 

Upon hearing a noise of someone approaching, Thomasius turned to face the handsome man Tom always dreamt of. He walked in wearing nothing but a small towel around his hips and sandals on his feet. Thomasius dropped to his knees and removed the sandals and set them aside. He stood up and took the little towel and placed it on the edge of the pool. He then took the man’s hand and led him into the pool that was obviously a bath. Naked as well, Thomasius entered the bath with the man and helped him to sit down on the ledge beneath the waters surface.

 

In that moment, Tom knew the man’s name was Arulieus and also that he was the master of Thomasius. As Arulieus settled in the water, Thomasius began to bathe his master. Arulieus was a very handsome Greek, a very wealthy man who was once a gladiator and a powerful warrior. Arulieus had been heralded for his services and given his freedom to see out his life. He was also a good and kind master and he knew Thomasius loved him beyond measure.

 

As Thomasius gently wiped the cloth over his master’s naked body, Arulieus wrapped his arm around Thomasius and drew him onto his lap. He smiled warmly at Thomasius and pulled their lips together. His tongue entered the young man’s mouth and then with his other very strong hand, he lifted Thomasius and entered him.

 

Tom stood against the wall watching the men make love. In that moment Tom knew that he and Thomasius were the same person but in another life. He also knew how deeply he had loved his ancient Greek master. Tom wished he could be in the arms of Arulieus again.

 

To Tom, all of this seemed perfectly natural. He had no idea he was dreaming but the visions of the past were real and the curiosity of how he was watching did not occur to him. Somehow it all simply made sense. He therefore watched and remembered and allowed the feelings to wash over him.

 

A moment later, Tom was transported somewhere else entirely but watching once more. It was a different time and Arulieus, now a few years older and in a large bed naked, was dying. Thomasius, now a young man in his twenties, lay on the bed with his arms around Arulieus and sobbed into his chest. Arulieus had been called back to battle one last time but had been seriously wounded and was expected to die.

 

Regaining consciousness and opening his eyes, Arulieus looked down at Thomasius and said in Greek, “None have loved me like you. You are the one who holds my heart and I have given it freely to you. There is none but you and so you are mine, as I am yours. Hold tight my love and never stop calling me, for I vow I will return and our hearts will meet and join again.”

 

Thomasius lifted his head and as the tears streamed down his cheeks, he lowered his lips onto his master’s lips and they kissed with the full passion of love. Arulieus pushed Thomasius down onto his chest again and moaned from the pain of his fatal wound, which was devouring him. He turned his head and looked directly at Tom standing at the side of the bed watching. Arulieus smiled lovingly in recognition of Tom and then a moment later, his eyes closed and he died.

 

Tom cried out as his heart was cleaved in two, even though his cries went unheard. Broken, he turned and walked out onto a balcony overlooking ancient Greece. The sun rose and set, the moon rose and set and twice more he watched as three days flashed passed in seconds. Then, on the third night, as he watched Thomasius sitting alone in a great yet now a cold and empty house, the young man ran out onto the balcony and threw himself to his death in grief.

 

Frozen, Tom stared but was too afraid to walk over and look down. In some other moment in time, his love had been so great for Arulieus, he had committed suicide rather than exist without him. He closed his eyes not wanting to remember but suddenly he heard the flapping of wings.

 

Looking up, Tom watched as a winged man descended. It was Arulieus, the most handsome man he had ever laid eyes on. Arulieus pulled Tom to his chest, wrapped first his arms around him and then his wings. Tom felt bathed in love before he cried and declared his love to Arulieus. They kissed and the winged man’s lips could be no softer and nor his tongue more tender.

 

Arulieus said, “Another time, again and again, my love.

 

Releasing Tom, Arulieus flew down and as Tom ran and looked over the balcony, he watched as Arulieus lifted the spirit of Thomasius from the broken and bleeding body, before rising so high they disappeared from Tom’s sight.

 

In bed, Tom turned onto his side and assumed the foetal position, as two times and two worlds joined as one. As his body relaxed once more, time separated from time and suddenly Tom was somewhere else.

 

From a corner, Tom stared at a seventeen-year-old sitting beside a window. A heavy lock turned from outside and a moment later the bedroom door flung open. The young man’s father, a huge and howling, cruel man, stormed in and struck his son with the back of his hand. The young man was thrown from the impact and collided with the wall. As his son collapsed to the floor, the father looked down at him with absolute disgust and said, “There is only one way for a man and you will submit and be such a man.”

 

As the father walked out of the room and passed his wife who was entering, he said, “Be certain you lock the door when you’re done.” His wife nodded agreeably while unconcerned, before she walked in and looked at her broken son beside the bed.

 

“You are abomination, for so it is written. Thomas, you will give yourself over to the right. You will be what you should be and not the evil that dwells inside of you. Your father is doing what he must do, what he is meant to do and he will not stop until you embrace the good and right.”

 

Broken jawed and with blood pouring from his mouth, Thomas looked up at his mother and simply cried. She shook her head and looked at him in disgust when she realised no repentance was behind his eyes.

 

Thinking for a moment, his mother said with a particularly cruel smirk, “On this morn, the son of the blacksmith vanished. All have searched to find him but your father and I know he will not be found. We suspect Satan hath taken him down and so you, my son, will never lay hand on him again.”

 

Thomas turned again and looked up at his mother in shock but equally, devastated. Only a year before, Ciaran, a stunning, Irish, young man with jet-black hair and metallic blue eyes, had stepped off the tall ship with his parents at Sydney Cove. They had travelled north through New South Wales and settled in the nearby town. Thomas and Ciaran had fallen in love almost instantly.

 

Certain, Thomas knew his parents had murdered Ciaran and that he would never again see the young man who had stolen his heart so completely. Silently his tears flowed as the dam of his heart broke. His mother glared at him and shook her head, before she stormed from the room and turned the heavy lock, sealing him in once more.

 

Tom was appalled and horrified as he stared down at yet another young man. Once again Tom knew Thomas was him but in another life. In that life he had nowhere to turn. As he vaguely remembered, Tom’s own heart broke just as equally and he wished there were something he could do.

 

As Thomas dragged his body from the floor and onto the bed, Tom looked around the room. Somehow he was aware the year was eighteen ninety and though he knew the room had once been his, still he felt the room seemed overly familiar. He did not realise it was the room beside the spiral staircase in the house his body was sleeping. Turning toward the window, Tom watched as day jumped swiftly into night.

 

Thomas was now standing beside his window and with nothing but his fingers, fingernails, a shoelace and a loose tacking nail he had pulled from beneath his bed, he was digging and pulling and trying to dislodge the six-inch nails that sealed his window tight. Tom watched as the young man’s nails tore from his fingers and bled. He watched as the rusted nails ripped the skin of his fingers opened. He watched as he tried to pull the nails with his teeth. How Tom wanted to save this boy, this self, from a past he only barely remembered. One by one, though, Thomas eventually removed the nails from the wood.

 

Unexpectedly, as he removed the final nail imprisoning him, as Thomas stared out into the night, he suddenly reeled back and away from the window. His eyes did not shift from what he was seeing and his breathing was more a quiet gasping. Tom focused on what Thomas was looking at and instantly Tom began to smile.

 

Approaching slowly but surely, a magnificent man with magical wings floated closer. As he did, trust and belief filled Thomas and he stepped closer and looked at the winged man in awe. The face Thomas saw was Ciaran’s face, which was the face of Arulieus as well. Assuming Ciaran was now an angel, Thomas smiled and began to cry. He slid the window open and the winged man opened his arms for Thomas to climb out and into.

 

Thomas wrapped his arms around the winged man but as they began to float back and away from the window, all of a sudden a large and heavy chain flew up from the ground, curled around the right wing and as the winged man tried to free his wing while holding tightly to Thomas, another heavy chain flew up and over the winged man’s left shoulder.

 

With great strength and vile intent, Thomas’s father gripped the chains and dragged both the winged man and his son to the ground. With the help of his wife, in a matter of time more chains were added and soon the winged man was subdued and was lying on a table in a room beneath the house. Bound and unable to move his arms, legs or wings, the winged man turned his head and cried, as he watched Thomas being chained to the adjacent wall.

 

“They may part our bodies but they will never part our souls,” the winged man said, as he looked deep into Thomas’s eyes.

 

One day later, incapable of helping the one he loved or the young man he had once been, Tom watched in horror, as did Thomas, as the father and mother poured a plaster cast mould over the winged man and watched it harden and set. Thomas was screaming his abhorrence of his parent’s actions and asking why they would kill an angel? His parents who saw a demon and not an angel, agreed that Thomas was now lost to Satan, before dragging him down the hill to the river, tying rocks to his body and throwing him into the water to drown.

 

Though only moments in his dream, for days Tom watched what he thought sure was Arulieus dead and lost to him. However, as time rolled by, something began seeping through the solid plaster skin. At first it was a yellowing discolouration but soon, as it intensified, the full beauty of the winged man began to change the outer shell to match what lay inside.

 

The thick mould was already identical on the inside but now the outside was changing too. It made no sense but the magnificent appearance of the winged man, as well as his goodness, compassion and love could not be locked inside. The yellow began to turn gold and soon the solid mass was a replica of the winged man’s former self.

 

Shocked and fearful that the demon was not dead, the husband and wife decided upon a course of action. With the help of their reverend who was an equally fanatical zealot, whom they told they had captured one of Satan’s demons, the three decided upon a plan.

 

Hidden beneath blankets in a cart, they transported the winged man to a nearby fissure that opened from deep within the earth. With chains they briefly lowered the winged man’s legs into molten liquid and then raised it up. When the legs were solid, they turned the winged man upside down and repeated their actions. Once a completely solid statue, they returned home believing the demon was surely dead. Days later, the hard, stone surface replicated the hidden appearance.

 

Even more fearful, the husband created a stone pool, set the statue at its centre and filled the small pool with water. They asked the reverend to come and bless the pool and make the water holy, to keep Satan’s spawn trapped forever. Once done, they believed God’s work was done and returned to their lives with a story that Thomas had gone to England to study. Long gone and now well over a century later, the statue stood on guard, though now its appearance was once again a display of mesmerizing beauty.

 

Momentarily restless and twisting and turning in the bed, once again Tom found himself elsewhere within his dream. It was eighteen sixty and he was kissing his lover, his Russian soldier, his Arulieus though in a different body and somehow he knew the man would die that day. Again he felt the loss of the lips from his, again he watched his soldier walk out and close the door but this time, one day later, Tom learned the man he adored had been killed in the heat of battle. Three days later, Tom was discovered in the secret dwelling and the Ottoman soldiers killed him in the name of the Crimean war.

 

With a gasp of breath, Tom’s eyes shot open and disbelief filled his mind. His heart felt like it was breaking and he believed he needed to do something, even though he had no idea what he needed to do. In that moment, he knew the statue outside was the winged man in his dream, a man who had stolen his heart so many times before.

 

With a few deep breaths his consciousness began to return to normal and suddenly he began to laugh. Halfway through his unfinished laughter he said, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Since when do you believe in myths and legends and fairy tales? It was just another dream, you dumb fuck. You’re awake now and logic and reality is all you need.”

 

Pushing his body into a seated position, he reached for his little torch and turned it on to look at his watch. It was four fifteen in the morning. He sighed from being awoken from sleep and then turned onto his side and propped his head up on his hand. As he stared at the wall to his right, he began to admonish himself for the things that were running through his mind.

 

“Suddenly you like the idea of falling in love with a statue? What sort of mentally deficient arsehole are you? You’ve got a great life and you’re really happy. You’ve got a good family, lots of super good friends and you get laid more often then you actually need to. Nothing’s tying you down, nobodies holding you back and don’t forget that next week you’re going to that party. An entire weekend of fucking and sucking and anything you want to do. Every guy will be just like you and no one will be judged for any line they want to cross. That’s freedom. What more could you want?”

 

Nodding to himself with absolute certainty, Tom pushed himself back into a seated position and looked out the window. He blinked several times as he tried to clear what he thought must have been sleepy, blurry eyes. No matter how much he blinked, though, he was not looking at the statue’s back and wings; he was in fact, looking at the statue’s face.

 

Swiftly pushing up and off the bed, Tom ran to the window and stopped dead. The statue was still in the pool but definitely facing the wrong way. It was looking directly at him through the window and its arms were at its side. Not only that but also the wings were folded behind its back and were hardly visible. It was simply too much for Tom to accept and he ran out of the house fully naked and came to a halt right beside the pool and stared in disbelief.

 

“This can’t be real? How can this be possible? Someone’s pulling my chain,” he yelled.

 

Initially Tom was so stunned by what was actually happening, even though he was looking at the statue, he was not really looking at any specific part of it. However, suddenly the wings shot open. They were enormous, as if they were spread even wider then they had been earlier and the shoulders and chest seemed pumped up, as if the weight of the wings required all the strength and power of the muscles. The statue looked even bigger.

 

Jumping back in fright, Tom stood motionless like a statue as well. Though he could not accept it, part of him was beginning to accept he could not deny his own eyes. As his gaze narrowed to the impressive torso, he began to really focus. The entire statue looked real; like a real body with real skin, real muscles and real nipples. He knew he wanted to look at the face but he was almost afraid, as he argued with his mind, which was ordering him to look into the statue’s eyes.

 

Finally, following a few seconds of internal debate, Tom lifted his gaze and saw real eyes looking down at him. To make matters worse, the eyelids blinked and the mouth curved into a soft smile. Tom stepped back at least three steps. He looked around in the darkness of the early morning, not long before dawn. He was desperately hoping to see a television crew filming and someone about to jump out and surprise the shit out of him. Instead, there was nothing, no one and silence.

 

He turned and looked back at the statue or whatever it was. This time he stared deep into those eyes. He felt the feelings he had felt when he first arrived at the property. He was hypnotised and being drawn to this replica of a perfect male form. His eyes seemed to be losing control and he could not drag them away. The earth beneath his feet felt like he was walking on cloud and suddenly his legs were moving against his will. He thought he should care but then he did not.

 

In a trance or a daze he was compelled and he wanted to go to the statue. He wanted to touch it and be damned if he did not want to wrap his hand around that manly cock. His mind was on fire with sexual thoughts and he wanted every thought to become a reality.

 

The next thing Tom knew he was standing up on the flat surface of the blonde stone. He was looking even more deeply into the eyes of the statue. He literally felt like a piece of metal that was being dragged toward a huge magnet. Just for a moment he tried to deny the intensity of being pulled against his will but instantly, the statue’s right arm moved, its hand turned and then its thumb gave a single stroke the length of its cock.

 

In that moment, no matter where dream ended and reality began, Tom was beyond self-control and beyond help from anyone. He watched the cock grow hard and he did not just want it, he needed it. The statue once again lifted both its arms, silently suggesting he walk into its embrace. The thought of giving his body over to the embrace of the statue, filled Tom with fear and caused him to struggle to breathe.

 

Confused but sexually entranced at the same time, a split second later Tom felt the water covering his foot and moving up over his ankle. It was cool and sensual and as he stepped down to approach, again his chest tightened and he felt even more afraid. Somehow the statue’s offered embrace suggested a prison.

 

Lowering the gaze of his eyes, Tom looked at what was now between six and seven inches of hard cock. He felt his sexual hunger increase and subsequently the tightness in his chest faded. Refusing to look upon any other part of the statue, he dropped to his knees and took the cock into his mouth. Though he was in a daze, he still was amazed that the cock in his mouth was real.

 

Wrapping his arms around the lower part of the statue’s body, Tom’s mouth slid sensuously up and down the length of the hard cock. He was a highly sexual man but never had he felt such a degree of desperate desire to suck cock, like he did at that moment. He felt like it belonged to him but he also felt like it was in control of him. It felt like an uncontrollable obsession.

 

His hands moved to the front of the body as his lips and tongue caressed the cock with a tender passion. His fingers caressed over the hips, through the waist onto the stomach and then up over the chest. He moved the tips of all four fingers of both hands across the hard nubs of the beautiful and soft, round nipples. The more he touched the body the warmer it became and the more irresistible to his desire.

 

The erection in his mouth seemed to grow harder while the skin grew hotter and soon his hunger for the body was beyond comprehension. He wanted it, he wanted to breathe through it and he wanted to become one with it. The feelings and thoughts were so consuming, he felt like his body would become nuclear and explode. It was frightening and yet it was divine.

 

When the first taste touched his tongue it was tantalising. He thought his tastebuds were on some type of euphoric drug and as his tongue and his lips and the cock became completely lubricated by the warm consistency, all he wanted was more.

 

A thought repeated in his mind, “Nothing like this – Never before!”

 

Like the sun through a magnifying glass, all of Tom’s focus expressed itself in the movement of his head and the stroking of his lips and tongue. There was nothing he wanted more then the ejaculate to fill his mouth and feed his insatiable hunger. Time was not on his mind, only the conclusion could satisfy the wantonness at the pit of his being.

 

When the warmth finally covered his tongue, he gripped the statue so tight he thought his fingers would pierce through the skin, as he simply stopped moving and allowed the warm nectar to fill his mouth and surround the giving meat.

 

Swallowing while taking extreme care not to spill a drop, he breathed through his nose and swallowed it all, then finished by sucking and licking the manhood clean. As he pulled his head back and looked at the glowing, unchanging hardness, Tom felt satisfied, even though he believed he would need the cock to satisfy him again.

 

The reason Tom had not walked into the statue’s embrace was because deep inside, his mind told him that single choice would mean admitting something he did not want to admit. The statue in front of him, the memories of the Greek warrior, the Irish teenager or the Russian soldier, they all meant loss of freedom and eventual pain. Subsequently, any sexual act was about denial of emotions or never submitting to the need for one man, no matter who it was.

 

Ironically, at least at the start, the way Tom had sucked the cock was not so much sexual as it was emotional. Soft moans filtered into the air around them, as Tom treated the hard manhood like it was loved and should be worshipped. The way his hands caressed the body and the way his lips kissed and his tongue licked, his actions, at least to begin, were to some degree incongruous.

 

When the act was done, though, Tom reluctantly stood up, thoughtlessly straight into the statue’s arms. The manly hands were instantly sliding on Tom’s skin and then his body was against the statue’s body. The arms tightened around him, hard cocks were crossed like swords and then the statue’s head bent and a tender tongue slid into Tom’s mouth.

 

Lost in some deep and seemingly foreign situation where sex and love were tied together at the core, which was ironically even more intense then what he thought was the greatest part of life; Tom felt something happening inside his body and his only thought was, “Something’s wrong.”

 

As the feelings grew, Tom could only equate what he was feeling with what he imagined claustrophobia must feel like. He felt like the world was closing in on him. What little light was available in the dark, like an illusion, it seemed to be getting darker. The feelings would not stop growing inside of him and soon he was feeling more afraid. His fear had to be because of the statue because nothing else made sense. He had to be afraid of the statue because the quiet voice inside his mind could not be true. The voice had to be lying because what it was suggesting was unacceptable.

 

“Those feelings are for foolish people and children’s stories. They’re not for rational and practical people like me. The heart is an organ that beats and pumps blood. It’s nothing more. All that matters and all that’s true must be able to be seen and touched and rationally explained,” he thought.

 

The moment their kiss parted and Tom looked into the statue’s eyes, the only thought he was willing to acknowledge was that he needed to escape. With a sudden and unexpected lunge, Tom pulled out of the statues firm grip, leaped out of the pool and began sprinting down the driveway toward the gate and his car.

 

Even as he ran, Tom did not think about the fact he was naked or that his car keys were in his pants in the bedroom. All he was aware of was some terrified part of him telling him he had to get away.

 

As he saw his car coming into view, it was the moment when he thought about his keys. The car was locked and there was no way he could get into it. He also knew his car had broken down and he could not drive away. With an instant decision he decided that naked or not, he would run out onto the road and keep running until he was safe.

 

Looking behind his car, another look of disbelief crossed his face when he saw the gate was closed. It was a heavy and solid, metal gate and he wondered if he would be strong enough to open it. Swiftly he thought, “It’s just over five feet tall, scale it and keep on going.”

 

As he was almost at the gate, Tom heard the flapping of large wings and he turned and looked up over his shoulder. There in the air in the darkness was the statue, very much alive, its massive wings gracefully carrying it toward him fast. Tom looked back at the gate and he jumped. He gripped it, dragged one leg up until his foot was on the top bar and with all his strength he pushed upward and over.

 

He felt his other foot hit the bar but though it hurt, it did not matter because he was sailing over the fence toward freedom. A split second later, arms came around his chest and legs came around his legs and instead of his body dropping to the ground, it began to rise into the air as two huge wings thrust down beside him. The turn was swift and tight, the rushing air was fast against his face and then he was watching the driveway pass beneath him, as he was carried back toward the house.

 

Suddenly, gently and slowly, they came to rest back at the centre of the pool. As soon as their feet entered the water and touched the base, the statue turned Tom around, pulled him to its chest and then the large wings wrapped around him as well, leaving him no escape at all.

 

One hand of the statue gripped Tom’s jaw and lifted his head, forcing him to look up into the eyes looking down. Tom looked into angelic eyes and as he did, the statue said, “My love, you saw me, touched me and felt my fingers on your skin. Are your own senses not good enough or real enough to let the feelings in?”

 

“It can’t be real, it just can’t. I’ve been so certain,” Tom said.

 

The statue replied, “Certain or in denial?”

 

“True love is a fantasy,” Tom said.

 

“I’ve always loved you and you’ve always loved me,” the statue replied.

 

“No, you’re not real either. You’re a statue for fucks sake. You, the feelings and the thoughts, they’re all just part of this elaborate dream my subconscious has thrown my way. This is not even happening and I’m probably still asleep in bed. You’re a great fantasy, though. The perfect face, the perfect body and you always want me. What else could a man’s imagination ask for?”

 

“Tom, you’re in my arms, our naked bodies are pressed together and not long ago my tongue was in your mouth. Could you do any of that with a statue? You can feel the warmth of my skin even now,” the statue said.

 

“It has to be a dream or…”

 

The statue cut him off and suggested, “…or undying love?”

 

“Oh please. Love was created and embedded into human consciousness centuries ago. It was a way to keep the frustrated masses passive. Give people something invisible to search for and they get lost and create a fabricated idea of what they need. Love is like God. It’s for the weak,” Tom said.

 

While the statue held Tom against its body, it spread its wings high and wide and as Tom looked up at them in disbelief, they slowly came down and folded around him, pressing him even tighter to its living being. He tried to step back and pull away but all he could feel was the most magnificent, naked, male body, so warm and smooth and muscular, as it pressed and rubbed against him.

 

Hard again, so swiftly Tom’s erection was beginning to throb needfully. The stiffness yet fleshiness of the statue’s erection was softly sliding against his own. Ruled by sex for so many years, as usual, Tom felt the need to submit to his hungry desire.

 

The sexual nature of what was happening stopped Tom from trying to retreat. He wrapped his arms around the strong body, pushed hard against the hot cock and began to kiss the statue’s neck, as he focused where he always did - on sex.

 

“Is this all that I am to you? Is my body the only thing you will submit to? Tom, we have been together so many times in so many existences and every time until now, you have loved me with your body, heart, mind and soul. I have been coming to you in your dreams and calling to you since you became a man this time around. Why do you push me away when long ago we vowed forever?”

 

Wrapped tight in feathers and skin, Tom felt his heart begin to ache. For a moment he was able to push the feelings away in favour of sexual thoughts. He lowered his head, sucked a nipple between his lips and reached down and stroked the statue’s cock.

 

The wings around him began to loosen and then he felt the feathers caressing from his neck, down over his shoulders and back, over his arse and down his legs. The touch of the feathers was beyond soft and sensual and his body was sending messages to his mind that begged for the touch to never end.

 

When he realised his heart was beating in a way he had never felt in his life, the tender caressing of the feathers transformed into a different feeling. Just for a moment it became his ultimate idea of sex. No other man had ever surpassed what he felt. Tom’s top five rating of his best sex ever, suddenly meant nothing.

 

While all this was taking place and the trance-like state intensified, just for a moment Tom became aware that not only were their bodies gently writhing against each other but also, a kiss unlike any kiss he believed he had ever experienced, made his body feel like he had no physical strength and would collapse.

 

The statue’s arms tightened around him and held him firmly yet somehow softly. Tom felt like he was sinking through the statue’s skin. No longer was he thinking about sex and nor was he trying to be sexual to halt his deepest feelings and thoughts. Now he was completely mesmerised by the heat that was a different heat, by the desire that was a different desire and by an overwhelming feeling his body was not only filling, it was also a bottomless hole. Oddly, for the first time in his life, Tom felt no fear of love directed at him from another man. In fact, he felt warmth surrounding his heart.

 

Noticing the change instantly and breaking the kiss momentarily, the statue smiled and said, “There you are, my love.”

 

Tom looked up into the statue’s eyes and as he fell faster, he smiled, reached up and with his hand around the statue’s neck; he pulled its lips toward his. The statue did not resist but as the new kiss began and Tom’s arms tightened around the statue’s body, the wings unfurled, their bodies lifted out of the water and they rose into the air and then moved down toward the front door of the house.

 

As if walking on air, there was no jolt or bump as the statue’s feet touched the ground and continued walking. At the same time its wings folded behind its back as it carried Tom inside and into the bedroom. Lying Tom on the bed, the statue lay on top of him and with no resistance or struggle, the statue began to make love to Tom.

 

What followed was an intimacy that shattered time and space. Nothing existed other than two souls, two hearts, two minds and two bodies as one. The magic could not help but exist, the fire could not help but burn and the rest of the world could not help but disappear.

 

There was a single moment within it all when the living statue looked down into Tom’s eyes and said, “Now my love, speak my name.”

 

With nothing but a gaze of adoration, Tom looked deep into his eyes and said, “You are my world and I am yours. You are my Arulieus and you will always be my one and only.”

 

Tom smiled; Arulieus lowered his head and kissed him with all the heat and passion that had always existed between them. As the kiss deepened, Tom allowed his eyes to close.

 

When Tom opened his eyes a moment later, he was alone. He realised it was daytime and he was staring up at ancient paint peeling from a ceiling. Spider webs were everywhere and sheets were covering everything in the room he was in. He felt the hard, wooden slats of an archaic bed without a mattress, pressing into his back. There were no pillows and he also was not naked.

 

Sitting up abruptly, he noticed his watch on his wrist and looked at the time. It was eight-fifteen in the morning. He dragged himself from the bed in a completely confused state of mind and then walked out of the room. The smell of dust was thick and disgusting and as he glanced at the front door, he saw the top hinge was missing, the bottom hinge was bent and twisted and the door was barely hanging on an angle, the single hinge stopping it from falling to the ground.

 

He did not care about the rest of the house and simply walked outside. He came to an abrupt halt and gasped in disbelief. The lush, green lawn was hard, dry dirt. The blonde stone of the pool was discoloured, cracked, broken and falling apart. There was not a single drop of water inside. There was an angel statue with no genitals. Damage and erosion was everywhere but what must once have been a white colour was now grey with black streaks of dirt from years of weather. One wing had broken off and smashed into pieces on the disintegrating wall of the pool.

 

Incapable of understanding any of the extraordinary events he assumed he must have dreamt, Tom turned his back on everything and began to walk down the driveway. He saw the opened gate, which obviously had not been closed or moved in decades. He opened his car, got in, put his key into the ignition and turned it. The car fired up instantly and perfectly.

 

Wanting to scream at the insanity of not knowing what had happened, he took a deep breath, ordered his mind to forget everything and to never think about it again. He did a three-point turn, drove out onto the road and as he turned to the left to restart his journey home, he noticed he was on a different road.

 

Shocked, Tom looked in the rear vision mirror. He watched in disbelief as the driveway shimmied and then faded like steam. He looked across to his right and cars were passing him by on the other side of the road. Again he looked behind and cars were following. He looked ahead and cars were in front of him and all of this while there was no forest in sight.

 

“I’m losing my fucking mind,” he yelled.

 

Arguing rationally, he thought, “If the road didn’t exist, how did I turn onto it and drive along it? If the car didn’t break down, how did I stop at the house? If the house didn’t exist, where did I sleep? If it was all just a dream then how have I been driving while I was asleep and where the fuck am I? No, no, no. There has to be some plausible explanation?”

 

He drove on, trying to push everything out of his mind. Feeling like he had to get back in touch with reality, Tom reached down and turned on the radio. The colour drained from his face from the words that followed immediately.

 

I put a spell on you,

Because you’re mine,

You better stop that thing that you’re doin’,

I said watch out…

 

His hand smashed hard against the button and the radio went silent. He shook his head in disbelief, as the face of the most handsome man, a man with wings, filled his mind and made his heart flutter in his chest.

 

Over the next couple hours he questioned, he argued and eventually began to create a sanctuary of denial. Unfortunately, one thing kept silently screaming from deep inside his being. It was something he did not want to admit, a silent voice telling him he was in love with Arulieus. He kept denying it but each time he did, he knew deep inside he was lying.

 

Needing rationality, Tom said, “Arulieus would be dead and dust in the ground. Even if it were possible, he’s dead and it doesn’t matter now.”

 

He shook his head in denial because he thought he had to. The thoughts running through his mind were pushing him to believe and yet he disbelieved.

 

“I don’t need any of that crap. Hot guys and hot sex and freedom are all I need. Why would I want one man only, when hundreds of handsome faces and irresistible bodies are everywhere for the taking. I don’t need to believe in some ethereal heart that can be crushed and broken and torn to shreds at life’s whim. Why would I choose pain when I can choose pleasure?”

 

Another thought went through his mind that he needed to get back to his regular life but then he thought that what had been regular yesterday and for most of his life, did not feel so reasonable today. He felt a little emotional knot in his throat, coughed to clear it away and continued to drive back to Sydney.

 

Approximately two hours later, as Tom turned off the freeway and onto the Pacific Highway, barely fifteen minutes later he saw a man walking down the side of the road hitchhiking. Tom had not picked up a hitchhiker in years. The last time he did he was a teenager and it was night, he was horny as fuck and he only did it because he hoped the guy would be gay or willing to cross boundaries. In fact, the guy was straight but had been more than willing to let Tom blow him, before going home with Tom and fucking all night.

 

Following everything, real or imagined, sex was the last thing on Tom’s mind. Regardless, thinking that talking to someone real while confirming life was still normal, the urge to stop was forceful and so he pulled to the kerb in front of the man and waited. With cars honking their horns behind Tom, the man ran, opened the door and without saying anything, he jumped in and closed the door.

 

Hurriedly and without looking at the stranger in his car, Tom accelerated quickly to stop the angered abuse of the drivers behind him. Once he moved back into the regular flow of traffic, he turned and looked at the man beside him. Tom could barely believe he was looking into such beautiful yet piercing, hazel eyes, as well as a face that astonished him with a resemblance he could not deny.

 

“I’m Heath,” the man said.

 

“Tom,” he replied and presented his hand.

 

As Heath shook Tom’s hand he said, “Thanks so much for stopping. I’ve been travelling for hours and since the only other person picked me up and dropped me off in a place with no shops, no one else would stop and give me a lift.

 

Trying to keep his eyes locked on the road so he did not have to admit to what was going through his mind, Tom said, “I can’t remember the last time I saw a hitchhiker. I reckon I would’ve been a teenager. I guess that’s why I stopped. I didn’t know people still took the risk with all the sicko nutcases in today’s world.”

 

“Funny about that because I haven’t hitchhiked since I was a teenager,” Heath replied.

 

“So why today?”

 

“Very old car on its last legs finally gave up the ghost and died for good. I suppose I could’ve caught the train or a taxi instead but for some strange reason, I’m not sure why, I decided to hitch. I was only coming from Newcastle and so I decided to risk it.”

 

Turning curiously, Tom looked at Heath and as he did, Heath turned and looked back, their eyes locking onto each other for an extended moment. Both men had an odd expression on their faces but neither said a word. Turning back to watch the road and the traffic around him, Tom asked, “So where are you headed?”

 

“As far as you’re able to take me into Sydney,” Heath replied.

 

“I’m on my way back from Queensland but I live in Sydney so where exactly do you want to go?”

 

“I’m staying with a friend temporarily in the south-eastern suburbs. He resides in Maroubra. I haven’t found myself a new place yet.”

 

Tom asked, “Where did you reside before?”

 

“Newcastle. That’s why I was there today. I had to finalise some things. I thought I would’ve been back hours ago but shit happens, I guess. What about you, Tom, where do you reside?”

 

“Well it’s a little bit of a coincidence but I live in Lurline Bay, just up the road from Maroubra beach.”

 

“No shit? Wow, that is a coincidence. I’m super glad you picked me up,” Heath said.

 

“Well, the traffic isn’t too bad yet because there’s still a couple hours before it reaches its peak. I should get you home in about an hour, thereabouts,” Tom said.

 

“Your timing is impeccable, Tom. I’m so hungry and was hoping I’d pass a restaurant while I was walking. I didn’t though and so getting home sooner rather then later, so I can eat, will be great.”

 

“I understand. Listen, I’m pretty damned hungry as well. If you’re interested, when we cross the harbour bridge, we could always stop somewhere and grab a bite.”

 

“Well aren’t you the saving angel,” Heath said.

 

Shocked, Tom turned abruptly and looked at Heath like he had just shattered the fabric of his existence.

 

Surprised by the reaction and the look on Tom’s face, Heath asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing. It’s just… Forget it, it doesn’t matter. So what would you like to eat?”

 

“Greek, Russian or whatever, I’ll eat just about anything that’s put in front of me. Whatever you feel like eating will be fine with me, Tom.”

 

Tom was frozen from shock but maintained his control and continued to drive. Out of all the foods Heath could have referenced, he chose Greek and Russian. On top of that, not only was Heath really hot, really manly and seemed super nice as well, from the first moment Tom had looked at him, he could not believe the incredible resemblance to Arulieus.

 

Now, after saying Greek and Russian, the hairs on the back of Tom’s neck were standing up. The inside of his body was heating up as well and it was causing a light perspiration on his brow. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and wondered what the chances could be? Considering the last twelve or so hours, Tom was beginning to believe anything could be possible.

 

“So Tom, are you married?”

 

“Me? No way,” he replied but as he looked over at Heath and into his eyes, he wished those words or at least their implications had not left his mouth. Tom then added, “What about you?”

 

“No. I mean I haven’t met the right person to consider that sort of commitment,” Heath said.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I meant,” Tom replied, back peddling, even though he could not believe the wavering of his attitude from one day to the next.

 

“It’d be nice, though. The idea of being so in love with someone that you’d want to spend the rest of your life with that person? It must be nice,” Heath said.

 

The words that followed from Tom almost floored him when he replied, “It took me a while to realise how important it was. I know now that finding the person I’d like to find and also, feeling what I’d like to feel, yeah, it would be very nice, Heath.”

 

Both men turned simultaneously and looked at each other intensely and then both looked back at the road. The next five minutes passed by in silence. When they began speaking again it was an unending conversation that continued throughout the drive. Even when they stopped to eat in a simple café, they did not stop talking and it seemed like they had known each other forever.

 

Their connection was instantaneous. They got on like a house on fire, they had a similar sense of humour and when they conversed about anything important, they agreed with each other and understood where each was coming from. Neither said it even though both thought it; they could easily become the very best of friends.

 

As they continued to drive after leaving the café, Tom could not stop thinking how much he like the man beside him or how much he would like there to be more between them. In the middle of their conversation and out of the blue, Tom changed the subject suddenly and asked, “Heath, would you like to come back to my place for a drink before I take you home?”

 

“Sounds great. I’d love to,” Heath replied instantly.

 

Tom was extremely happy with the immediate response. In the time they had been together, he was not only really attracted to Heath but he really liked him as well. He could hardly comprehend the power of his desire to get to know Heath more deeply. Additionally, he certainly was not in the slightest bit surprised that he desperately wanted to get Heath naked. His only problem was not knowing if Heath was gay. Even though the swift response did not answer that question, Tom hoped the speed of Heath’s agreement might be pointed.

 

In spite of everything that had happened or the intensity of the feelings Tom was feeling, in the ten minutes before he arrived home, he tried to tell himself nothing had changed. He thought he could put the hard word on Heath and regardless of whether they hooked up or not, afterwards his world could return to normal.

 

When they walked into Tom’s house, Heath was busting to use the bathroom but as soon as he walked out to return to the living room, Tom walked quickly over and stood within the doorframe of the hallway, blocking Heath’s path. While he had been waiting for him to return, Tom knew he was kidding himself because after meeting Heath, nothing could ever be normal again. He then told himself he had to be part of Heath’s life.

 

“I have to say something to you. I mean, I need to know something,” Tom said.

 

The abrupt change in Tom unsettled Heath. Being forced to stop so suddenly just inside a doorway in a house he had never been in, seemed very strange to Heath. Tom was standing in the doorway, his hands gripping the doorframe, as if unwilling to let him pass or leave. Heath wondered if Tom was not the man he thought he was?

 

Following spending a wonderful afternoon with Tom, a man he now thought was a fun, friendly and a decent and kind man, suddenly he was being confronted with an oddly agitated behaviour. It was not only in Tom’s eyes, it was in his demeanour as well. Heath now wondered if he had been deceived into walking into a crazy man’s house?

 

Tentatively, Heath asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong, Heath. It’s just that meeting you and spending this afternoon with you, I really enjoyed it…”

 

Heath smiled with relief and interrupted, “So did I.”

 

“Yeah but Heath, the way we seemed to have connected, it’s really easy between us and…”

 

“Yeah, I thought that too,” Heath interrupted again.

 

“But it’s, I mean there’s more.”

 

Heath looked at Tom curiously and asked, “More what?”

 

“Fuck this is strange,” Tom said.

 

“What’s strange?”

 

“Fuck it,” Tom said, ordering his mouth to say the words that would make or break the situation he was in. “Heath, I’m gay. I really like you but I’m also really attracted to you and I was hoping that if there was any chance you’re gay, too, then maybe there could be a chance…”

 

“You bet your sweet arse there could be a chance,” Heath announced without letting Tom finish once again. He grabbed Tom’s face in his hands, pulled their lips together and kissed him like he wanted to throw him down on the carpet and fuck him right there on the spot.

 

Quite used to grabbing or being grabbed forcefully in the initiation of sex, Tom was not shocked or bothered by Heath’s heated kiss. In fact, he was beyond happy. He slid his hand inside Heath’s jeans and grabbed his cock that was already getting hard. Heath wrapped his arms around Tom’s body and pulled him closer and tighter.

 

“I had no idea but I’m so glad you’re gay,” Heath said.

 

“Ditto,” Tom replied and then he initiated another kiss.

 

While kissing again, everything between them intensified in moments and minutes later they were naked on Tom’s lounge. Over the next couple hours the sex between them was exceptional and as hot as hell. Later, after their first session, as they moved off the lounge and into the bedroom, they instantly continued into a second session.

 

Later still, as night found them wrapped around each other in a lover’s embrace, they decided to get out of bed and ransack the kitchen for food to replenish their energy. Naked while struggling to keep their hands off each other, they ate and talked between kisses and playful touching the whole time. It was like they were meant to be together and Tom could not stop thinking Heath was Arulieus, though not Arulieus, yet with him once again.

 

In the early hours of the morning, sometime after they had returned to bed, they made love with an emotional passion like neither had done with any man up to that point in their respective lives. Just before dawn Heath told Tom he thought he was falling in love with him and Tom had no hesitation in admitting he felt the same.

 

The next day was a Saturday but they remained together and alone for the entire weekend. They made love, they talked and even while they ate and showered, all the while they were constantly trying to learn every detail they could about each other. It was a whirlwind romance that seemed to grow from nothing into something powerful.

 

With the passage of time, even though in the back of his mind Tom always remembered what happened, he struggled to believe that past lives and men with wings were true. He preferred to think it was all an exceptional dream but even so, he came to the conclusion something extraordinary had to occur, which would crack away the hardness of fear from his heart, to make him open up to a different way of life.

 

It seemed there could be no other answer because Tom knew he would not have stopped that day and picked up a hitchhiker. He therefore knew he would not have met Heath, he would not have talked to him until he wanted to invite him home and finally, knowing all of that, Tom also knew he and Heath would never have fallen in love.

 

Regardless of what had taken place that night at the non-existent farmhouse, from the following day Tom consciously chose to allow the changes in him to evolve. As the weeks, months and years went by, though he never stopped remembering, he told himself all that really mattered was that he and Heath remained together.

 

With every moment of time that followed, the men felt they became more bound to each other and that nothing and no one could ever break them apart. They were right and so beginning what would be the most wonderful and happy life, they moved in together, stayed together and there was never a time their eyes strayed or the desire for a different life existed. They shared in a deeply loving relationship and were devoted to each other for the rest of their lives.

 

Tom chose to never tell Heath about the strange experience during his journey home from Queensland. Part of him always thought if he mentioned it to anyone, even Heath, he might be shipped off to the funny farm. It turned out to be irrelevant because even though the memories came to him often, as time went by and their lives continued on together, the connection between them only grew stronger and his secret seemed irrelevant.

 

Irrespective of the man Tom thought he was going to be, he became a completely different man. It was not about should or should not; it was about what was right for him. Meeting Heath only consolidated that fact.

 

On the odd occasions when he allowed more flexible thoughts to enter his mind, Tom wondered if the inflexibility and hardness of his younger years, could have existed because of all the hurt and the pain that surrounded each life he apparently lived. It certainly could explain why he had been so afraid of giving his heart to another. He did cringe when he gave any credence to beliefs about things like past lives but even so, the thoughts never faded.

 

Irrespective, though in his own mind Tom did believe he changed for the better, he was still a practical realist and in his mind he continued to argue that some small, inexplicable piece of his life where nothing made sense, simply could not be accepted as proof of an alternative to science and cold, hard facts.

 

Driving on a road in a forest that did not exist, going to a house that did not exist and having sex with a statue that became a living man but still did not exist, it was all just way too irrational. Then he would look at Heath, a man he loved and adored and who looked like Arulieus. In the simplest of terms, Tom constantly found himself denying his denial. An entire, non-existent situation, which could not with any certainty even be called a dream, saw a majestic man with wings break through his fears and change him to his core.

 

Still, Tom’s mind swung back and forth. In a way he wanted to believe but his rational nature did not want him to believe. In the times he gave benefit of the doubt, he thought that if Heath was Arulieus, maybe in this life where they were untouched by war or cruelty or fanaticism, this was a life where finally everything between them was good. This was a fortunate life or perhaps a life well deserved.

 

Every time Tom tried to deny or make it easier for his mind to skim over, soon after he would walk into their bedroom and he was forced to admit it was impossible to sweep away.

 

On the Monday, three days following the day he returned home with Heath, as Tom walked into his laundry to do his washing while Heath was at work, in standard fashion he checked the pockets of his clothes from his time in Queensland. Another impossible occurrence confronted him that day.

 

Unexpectedly in his hand he held the most perfect, beautiful, bronze-coloured feather. He knew what it was, he knew where it had come from and as the name Arulieus whispered in his mind, he knew he could never dispute what it meant. It was real, it was tangible and it was the only thing he could not explain away.

 

Before Heath moved in with him, Tom put the feather in a frame. Centred above and between the two pillows of the bed where the men would sleep each night for the rest of their lives, he mounted it on the bedroom wall and there the feather would remain.

 

The first time Heath saw it, he asked Tom what the feather meant and Tom simply replied, “Freedom.”

 

Five decades later, one night, deep into their late seventies, Tom and Heath retired to bed early and fell asleep in each other’s arms. At around midnight, both men opened their eyes at the same time and looked at each other. They both sat up, got out of bed and when they turned and looked across the bed at each other, they looked down and saw their bodies, still lying where they had been.

 

Looking back at each other once more, they knew it was time to leave again. Tom glanced at the wall and though the frame remained, the feather simply disappeared, leaving nothing but an outline of what had once been behind the glass.

 

They walked out of the bedroom hand-in-hand and stepped onto the balcony. They looked at each other, smiled, kissed and then gazed up at the night sky. Softly and soundlessly, both men spread magnificent and flawless wings and then ascended, before soaring and vanishing into a star-filled and beautiful night.

 

The End.