The Peacock 90

 The peacock again.  It is 5:25 in the morning, and I actually slept fabulously well, much to my surprise.  There he goes again.   That sound would be unmistakable.   Anywhere.  Like a cat being dismembered.  I will listen at breakfast for any conversation about it.  But I am only going to mention it to Carl, whom I now realize is someone I can trust.  Given that we've known each other less than twenty-four hours, I imagine that that is a bit of a reach.  But we'll have to see.  I am certainly willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.  Now it is quiet, and I only hear the softer and sweeter sounds and songs of other, smaller and more modest birds.  I find it odd that nothing has yet been mentioned about a peacock, but perhaps that is simply one of  many details that are going to be taken for granted here.  

Time for my shower.  I seem to have the bathroom to myself, and it is just outside my bedroom, or should I say, Carl's bedroom.  I don't even know why I bother to cover my nakedness with a bathrobe, since, for some reason, I don't even care if anyone sees me walk back and forth from the bathroom buck ass naked.  There seems to be plenty of  hot water.  Buck ass naked.  Like a cross between buck naked, and bare ass naked, I suppose.  A Christopher original.

The mirror isn't quite full length,  But it shows that I have put on a little weight.  Never was much to look at, though still, not too bad for forty-four, I suppose.  I am not out to make friends based on my physical beauty.  Really, I can't imagine getting into anything with anyone.  Not even Carl, who has to be one of the most beautiful men I have ever encountered.  And what about Erik?  I just want to cuddle with him.  Little else,  Maybe a little else?  But no, and certainly not with my own brother-in-law.  I am not going to name it, but it is decidedly wrong, and a crime worthy of divine punishment.  And with Carl?  But I don't want to think about it.  And anyway, he is already like a brother, and again that is a line that is not going to be crossed.   I am not here to get laid, and really,  Greta was my last sexual partner (as well as my first, and only partner, female partner anyway, because there was also Chuck, around when Kenny died)), and even that was less than satisfying.  For both of us.

There is someone in the corridor.  I know him right away.  It is the Filipino brother I saw last night at dinner, and he is walking towards me.  And here I am, fully naked...