them for books—humorous essays à la David Sedaris. The problem was that most of his writing for
the Washington Post had been topical and regional, much to the point that the humor did not always transfer to the rest of the country.Tales of the Circlewas a hit inside the beltway, but outside it was often as obscure as the average foreign film.
But with theGreen Acresaspect of his current writing—a city-gay going to the mountains—he could not only mold his own experience into something with wider appeal, but he could also
transform it more easily into the larger category of fiction… maybe even expanding the notion of
Circleinto a broader concept.
It felt fantastic… not only because he was building future intellectual assets, but also because
the words were flowing like honey. He was riding the long-absent train of prolificity, speeding along after having sat at Purgatorial Station for entirely too long. He felt young again. Valid.
And… there was Tyler. If the situational lock had been a culmination of events leading with
Mac's cheating then, perhaps, Tyler had been the key to shift the tumblers within the mechanism,
forcing rusty parts to turn again, delivering him from stagnation and pushing him toward new
destinations.
Well, he thought.That's some purple prose if ever I heard any.
But he'd take it. He'd been blasé with words for so long that he would take even the most
grandiose.
And as the words flowed on the screen, his insecurities shrank—all the nagging doubts about
Tyler and Beulah Mountain… that maybe he wasdestined to return to Circle life… deigned to bethegossip guy, writing about shallow antics in the bedrooms of our nation's capital.
No.
He would gladly stay on the runaway train of thought and emotion while it took him.
Skype chimed on Alec's laptop.
He put his sandwich down and accepted the call. Demarco's face appeared on the monitor. He
was wearing a terry cloth robe with a matching towel turban.
"Ah, Miss Bankhead," said Alec. "I wasn't expecting your call."
"That's a gold-star cinema reference. You're making mama proud."
"Your hair is short, practically shaved. Why are you wearing a towel?"
"Because I like the way it makes me feel. Do I look glamorous?"
"Immensely."
"What's up?"
"I don't know… you called me."
"I've met someone."
"Again?"
