Status: Book 0: Prologue
Keante's Heart
Prologue (page 3)
It’s wonderful, he thought, the way the voice sounds. Natural, simple, soothing; it needed nothing to change it, alter it. It was fine all by itself.
“Where are you?” Keante asked.
“I… I am here”, said the voice, “I am here… you came… as… you… promised…”
There was a sense of joy and content in the voice that made Keante’s skin get hot. His lips were slowly creeping into a smile.
“Please”, Keante said, “lemme see you.”
Nothing. Keante’s smile sagged, somewhat, and his eyes lowered their gaze. He felt sad, embarrassed, and lonely. He felt like a fool for pressing his dream too hard. But then…
He felt a presence.
Keante lifted himself higher off the chaise, his body tense. He could feel somebody coming. He knew it was person. But who? By now he was ready. For what, he did not know. For who, he did not care. All that mattered was finding that wonderful voice. Where are you? he thought.
Then as if in response, his consciousness seemed to reward him for his patience. He could barely make it out, but something was coming. He squinted and partially covered his eyes from the light, in order to see well.
A figure was walking the length of the beach.
It took Keante a few seconds to see it: a blotchy figure a 50 yards from the left side of the beach. The figure was walking the beach where the sea and shore meet, along the muddy, soggy sand.
The figure was walking closer. In a direction that Keante couldn’t tell right away.
Keante was already off the chaise, walking towards the stairs along the railing facing the beach. His heart picked up speed, his breathing slowed and hot, his skin crawling with anticipation.
The figure was yards from the house and Keante was tense.
Keante had reached the stairs, and began descending to the third deck in a slow but tense air. His trembling hands sliding along the wooden railing. The figure paid no attention, the person’s face and features too shadowed by the distance between them for Keante to make them out.
The figure was closer now, but still a long way’s off to tell who it was.
Keante froze, his face was getting hot. His right foot on the third deck, and his left on the last step. He then noticed that a thick fog surrounded the figure, masking the person and showing no sign of dissipating. Keante seemed unnerved. What the fuck is with this fog? he thought, why can’t I see who it is?
“Fuck!”, he muttered under his breath, “why won’t this fog move?”
Keante was angry. He wanted to see who lay beyond the fog, but it was so thick, he couldn’t make out if the person was even there. When at last it seemed that fog would never relent, it suddenly faded away, but not all at once. Fading away bits and pieces at a time, the fog began to break apart revealing more and more of the person it concealed.
The figure’s features were more visible, and as the fog began to dissolve into nothingness, the silhouette gave way to… a boy. It was unmistakably a boy. Or so Keante could tell. No, no it was. He could tell by the way he walked, the way his neck and chest and upper torso were structured. It was a boy. There was no doubt. Suddenly, Keante’s heart skipped a beat. He’d never seen anyone like the boy before. But he damn sure wouldn’t forget him.
Closer.
This boy was walking along the seashore, along the length of the beach, in a direction that diagonally crossed paths with the house. Keante’s mind was racing at this point as he watched. He’d already reached the third deck and was leaning over the deck’s rails as the more of the boy’s form came into view. This boy. He was… hot. Sexy. Lean. Cut. Etc.
Keante’s breath was hot, and suddenly he felt numbness in his crotch growing stiff and throbbing. He realized the obvious: his dick was hard.
This was a fine-ass boy…
The nigga’s slim.
That was the first thing that came to Keante’s head when he saw him…
(End of Page 3)
“Where are you?” Keante asked.
“I… I am here”, said the voice, “I am here… you came… as… you… promised…”
There was a sense of joy and content in the voice that made Keante’s skin get hot. His lips were slowly creeping into a smile.
“Please”, Keante said, “lemme see you.”
Nothing. Keante’s smile sagged, somewhat, and his eyes lowered their gaze. He felt sad, embarrassed, and lonely. He felt like a fool for pressing his dream too hard. But then…
He felt a presence.
Keante lifted himself higher off the chaise, his body tense. He could feel somebody coming. He knew it was person. But who? By now he was ready. For what, he did not know. For who, he did not care. All that mattered was finding that wonderful voice. Where are you? he thought.
Then as if in response, his consciousness seemed to reward him for his patience. He could barely make it out, but something was coming. He squinted and partially covered his eyes from the light, in order to see well.
A figure was walking the length of the beach.
It took Keante a few seconds to see it: a blotchy figure a 50 yards from the left side of the beach. The figure was walking the beach where the sea and shore meet, along the muddy, soggy sand.
The figure was walking closer. In a direction that Keante couldn’t tell right away.
Keante was already off the chaise, walking towards the stairs along the railing facing the beach. His heart picked up speed, his breathing slowed and hot, his skin crawling with anticipation.
The figure was yards from the house and Keante was tense.
Keante had reached the stairs, and began descending to the third deck in a slow but tense air. His trembling hands sliding along the wooden railing. The figure paid no attention, the person’s face and features too shadowed by the distance between them for Keante to make them out.
The figure was closer now, but still a long way’s off to tell who it was.
Keante froze, his face was getting hot. His right foot on the third deck, and his left on the last step. He then noticed that a thick fog surrounded the figure, masking the person and showing no sign of dissipating. Keante seemed unnerved. What the fuck is with this fog? he thought, why can’t I see who it is?
“Fuck!”, he muttered under his breath, “why won’t this fog move?”
Keante was angry. He wanted to see who lay beyond the fog, but it was so thick, he couldn’t make out if the person was even there. When at last it seemed that fog would never relent, it suddenly faded away, but not all at once. Fading away bits and pieces at a time, the fog began to break apart revealing more and more of the person it concealed.
The figure’s features were more visible, and as the fog began to dissolve into nothingness, the silhouette gave way to… a boy. It was unmistakably a boy. Or so Keante could tell. No, no it was. He could tell by the way he walked, the way his neck and chest and upper torso were structured. It was a boy. There was no doubt. Suddenly, Keante’s heart skipped a beat. He’d never seen anyone like the boy before. But he damn sure wouldn’t forget him.
Closer.
This boy was walking along the seashore, along the length of the beach, in a direction that diagonally crossed paths with the house. Keante’s mind was racing at this point as he watched. He’d already reached the third deck and was leaning over the deck’s rails as the more of the boy’s form came into view. This boy. He was… hot. Sexy. Lean. Cut. Etc.
Keante’s breath was hot, and suddenly he felt numbness in his crotch growing stiff and throbbing. He realized the obvious: his dick was hard.
This was a fine-ass boy…
The nigga’s slim.
That was the first thing that came to Keante’s head when he saw him…
(End of Page 3)