A son's duty to his father, given to him by God, is to marry and produce children so that his father's blood is carried on into the next generation.
A son's duty to his sisters, given to him by God, is to protect their virtue and to protect them from harm.
A son's duty to his hearth, given to him by God, is to stand at the threshold and guard it from the thieves and the brigands who would despoil his home.
And first, above all, a son's duty to God is to always walk with God in his heart and to teach his children to do the same.

In a time and place where his wrongness would lead to him being stoned or burned unto his death, Ezekiel found a way to fulfil all of his duties as given to be him by God, and yet still be true to himself.

This is the story of Ezekiel's Victory.

Caution:
This story is set within a Puritan-like community. I take no responsibility for historical inaccuracies. There are frequent references to God and praying. This story contains references to sexual activity (see tags) — my descriptions of sex is generally minimalist — sometimes to the point of being Biblical. This is quite a dark piece in places and some may find aspects distressing. All I can say is that if you find it so, please keep in mind the title.

Introduction: Adam is beginning to learn about the vagaries of business. Last in, first out: he is being laid off due to the downturn in business. That's the bad news. Less bad is that they have an opening available in a small satellite office in Hartford, CT, the 'Insurance Capital of America'. Adam is going to move, and Phantom will come with him, of course.

This is another story in the Cynthia Chronicles series. Other stories in the series are An Incremental Journey, Cynthia and the Reluctant Girlfriend, Cynthia and the Dumpster Diver, Cynthia and the Moment of Truth, Cynthia and the High School Years - Part I, Cynthia and the High School Years - Part II, Charli and the Girl Cave, Bobbie and the Glass Ceiling; and Randi and the College Professor,. The time frame of this story takes place about three to four years after Charli and the Girl Cave. If you haven't read the stories before, it might be a good idea to go back and start at the beginning.

Was chatting with Dorothy over the phone. Something we do almost daily. When a rather innocent comment got my imagination going.

Of course this being bigcloset that little spark got a bit of a twist.

I had had a really long day. It started at 9 this morning with bad coffee, I apparently forgot to remove the old filter and just added new grounds in my sleep not quite awake state. Bad idea.

A man is faced with the goddess of justice and she makes him an unusual offer.

How We Met

When I heard my favorite magazine was having a contest which involved writing an essay on how you met the love of your life, I couldn’t resist it, if only because we arent a typical couple.

My submission went like this:

The first time I saw the love of my life was at the YMCA. She was just relaxing in the water, sometimes moving but mostly taking it very easy.

Then came the moment that made me want to get to know this lady better. A kid came by, and accidentally splashed her in the face, and she laughed.

It has been a while, yes, and no, this is not a new story from me (although I'm quite certain that if anyone was waiting, they stopped long time ago), but here, have a poem from the strange place that is my head.

P.S.: I know it's not a limerick.

It was a rainy day in 1982. This particular event took place in the spring of that year. Therefore, it was in late March early April.

Images 41

Previously on Images…

“Neither did I until Jenna, They gave me the you’re going to die letter too, get your shit done…I was supposed to be dead a long time ago according to them.”

“Blessed ain’t?”

“Oh fucking get over yourself Ingrid. Other people have it hard; other people have had it harder than we’ll thankfully ever know.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’ve got a Somali waitress down stairs that’s a challenge to that attitude honey and despite the shit she’s been through she’s still a damned nice person. You…you’re not and it’s that poor fuckin me attitude that’s doing it.”

This is a short story I wrote many years ago. It was posted to the old Big Closet and a friend of mine suggested I post it again.

You can find the strangest things in a City Park

Okay fine here Dorothy. Here is the little story you been bugging me to write all week! Hope your happy!

WARNING this may require tissue.

Pass In On
Chapter 8 (The last bit)

At the top of the stairs, Momma stopped and looked up at her handsome
prince. “I’ve told you all about the kids’ day, but you still haven’t told me about yours.”

Dad shrugged his shoulders. “Not really much to tell. You know the moving business ... pack this ... move that ... break something and blame it on the helper. Just the usual ... nothing special.”

Momma heard the words, but there was sparkle in her love’s eyes which meant there was more to the story.

Pass It On
Chapter 6

Noticing the door to Paris’s room was ajar he walked the few steps to her doorway and pushed it open. Seeing her empty bed he turned back to Momma.
“So what’s the story with It?”