The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 6

spidey2

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 6

Markov pursed his lips and nodded slightly.  But it was more as if he felt Adam seemed to need the acknowledgement, and he politely offered it, rather than actually being interested. Then he bent to pick up his shopping bags, nodded again and said, “Well, must be getting along. I’ve got some frozen berries in there as well as lamb chops, the heat won’t be doing ’em any good.” And he pulled a key out of his pocket, and turned towards his own apartment door.

What the hell? “What?” Adam asked incredulously. Well, it was a bit of a yelp, actually. “You’re just going to leave me here…stranded?” Maybe he sounded a bit pathetic. But he was practically stranded on a desert island, with nothing but a palm tree and a couple of coconuts to keep him company, here.  Figuratively.

Markov’s shoulders sagged, a little. And he stood a moment, with his key in the lock, and his shopping bags hanging off his arm. “I could call the supervisor for you?” he offered, without even the courtesy of turning around.

“And leave me out here? I’ll freeze! Even if you’re new, you should have realised it takes him hours to respond to a call by now!” Adam whined. It wasn’t that warm anymore, and the chilly breeze was giving him goosebumps. He hardly knew where to put his hands to keep himself decent, and try to keep warm too.

“I’ll fetch you a blanket while you wait?” Markov offered hopefully, turning his head a bit at least. He had to know that Adam was angling for an invite into his apartment while he waited. It would at least be one interesting upside to this whole trauma.

Adam pouted, and Markov caved. Not as far as issuing an invite, but…

Well, a minute and thirty seconds later, Adam was wondering if what he ought to be worrying about was living opposite someone with such impressive lock-picking skills. “I thought you were an entomologist,” he asked, slightly accusing, as Markov pushed open Adam’s front door and gestured to him.  (Much as if to say, ‘Voilà, all yours!’) “Not a locksmith.” (‘Locksmith’ seemed more polite than ‘potential burglar’.) “Where did you get your ‘breaking and entering’ chops?”

 

 

© Alex Ankarr 2017, all rights reserved.  Including the stellar artwork, don’t go stealing my spidey, peoples.

YAY!  6th installment of my bug-hunter/bug-phobic gay romance, here it is!

Advertisements

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 5

spidey2

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 5

Something about it unfroze Adam’s vocal cords, at least. “I was in the shower,” he blurted out, explaining the inexplicable.

Milo nodded, the way you might nod to any naked lunatic. And Adam continued, annoyed – because who liked being humoured? “There was a spider in there,” he said. “I only noticed it once I was already in there, up in the corner out of the way of the showerhead.”

It didn’t get the big reaction he’d been aiming for. Markov just looked at him a moment longer, like there had to be more explanation coming that that. For nudity, and being still bedewed with shower-raindrops, and suchlike.

“It was a really big one,” Adam added. He was getting annoyed, now.

 

© Alex Ankarr 2017, all rights reserved.  Including the stellar artwork, don’t go stealing my spidey, peoples.

YAY!  5th installment of my bug-hunter/bug-phobic gay romance, here it is!

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 4

spidey2

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 4

 

Adam couldn’t speak, himself. He’d have choked on a word. It was impossible to come up with even a fumbled, ‘um, hi’. What was he going to do, affect nonchalance, act like he just walked around the building in the buff all the time?

After the awkwardest brief pause in the world, though, Markov saved him. He stood a little straighter – making the most of his diminutive height.  And he looked Adam right in the eye – because anywhere else would have been awkward.  “’Evening, there, neighbour,” was how he opened the conversation.  He folded his arms, and there might have been a twitch of amusement round the pretty curl of his lips. “Interesting weather we’ve been having, right? Warm,” he emphasized.

His gaze traveled and lingered over Adam’s shoulder, arm, hip – suggesting, wordlessly, that a spot of naturism was a perfectly reasonable response to the heat. Or that maybe Adam thought so, at least.

 

 

 

 

© Alex Ankarr 2017, all rights reserved.  Including the stellar artwork, don’t go stealing my spidey, peoples.

 

YAY!  4th installment of my bug-hunter/bug-phobic gay romance, here it is!

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 3

spidey2

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 3

They’d nodded at each other in the mornings and evenings and in the utility room in the basement, the rare occasions Adam had spotted the smooth handsome newcomer, so far. He’d been biding his time. Waiting for the perfect moment.

And here it was, their meet-cute. It wasn’t remotely how Adam had imagined it, though. Not sans his slickest new duds, sans towel, sans a shred or scrap of clothing to cover him. Damp and flushed and sweaty, in fact, gasping for breath with the slam of the door still echoing through the hallway. And with his hand over his masculine parts, no sang-froid whatsoever.  (Like a kid whose swimming trunks had come off when he surged up out of the pool, and gave the hotel swimmers and sunbathers a laugh. He half-expected a catcall, a whistle, a round of mocking applause.)

 

 

 

© Alex Ankarr 2017, all rights reserved.  Including the stellar artwork, don’t go stealing my spidey, peoples.

 

YAY!  3rd installment of my bug-hunter/bug-phobic gay romance, here it is!

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 2

spidey2

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 2

Not alone, no.  Definite company present.  In the shape of Milo, his neighbour from across the hall – standing with his key out and a couple of shopping bags leaning up by his door, now turned around and staring at Adam.  Presumably wondering what the hell was going on, and why his new neighbour had just run screaming out into the hallway, slamming his own front door behind him.  (Stark naked.  Screaming, and naked.)

Milo Markov, the scientist from across the way.  Entomologist, to be precise.  Adam knew, because although they’d barely exchanged a ‘good morning’ so far, he always took care to know the bio of the cutest new residents in the building.  Wouldn’t anyone?

 

 

© Alex Ankarr 2017, all rights reserved.  Including the stellar artwork, don’t go stealing my spidey, peoples.

 

YAY!  2nd installment of my bug-hunter/bug-phobic gay romance, here it is!

me and Pam: a New Year project, Week One, Day One

8989167715_f1e1390dfa_k

image – Inga Vitola https://www.flickr.com/photos/360around/ licence https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

I got Pam Grout’s new book, ‘Art and Soul, Reloaded‘ for Christmas.  Lucky me!  And since it’s structured in the form of weekly projects, I figure I will make a serious stab at them, and at finishing them by next New Year.  Gotta try, right?

The first week’s project, as advised by Ms. Grout, is simply to log amount of time spent on social media for the week.  Then to cut it in half, and spend the freed-up time on creative pursuits instead.  And in addition, to come up with three new ideas a day.  No matter how ridiculous!

Well, we’re already halfway through the week.  So I’ll come up with my best estimate of the time I waste daily – say two hours.  And, yes, make an effort to cut it down.

And today’s three ideas?

i) write a Gothic novel summary with a clown as the hero

ii) decorate a mug to celebrate a national holiday that doesn’t exist

iii) build a ladybug house.

 

Random Quest – 11/12/2017

And I meant to get back to this new project straight away!  Oh well, three days, not bad.

To recap from my 08/12/2017 post, then:

In this series, I’ll take a random element – words out of a random word generator online, out of a casually grabbed book, a snatch of conversation on the radio – and interpret them.  Or possibly interpret the results of inputting these few random terms into the searchbox of a website – Twitter or Youtube or any one of a number of others.  Interpret, in the sense of give meaning to them, a nudge from the Universe, a voice in the (tinfoil-hatted) head, a prod between the shoulderblades.

And the words that a roll of the dice – metaphorically – got me, that time?

soup, ant, knee.  And knitting.  I always want to add ‘knitting’.

OK, let’s looka these.  Soup, ant, knee.  Yeah, I love soup, love making soup, love eating soup.  It’s a BIG LOVE.

Ants, ants mean community and hard work to me.

And knee?  Uhhhh…  knees are a fragile, misconceived design flaw in the human body, that tend to start picking up wear and tear and breaking down at 40 or so.

So… I think the Great God Random Word Generator is telling me…  focus on your Big Loves, your Big Big Loves.  Work your arse off, work like an ant works, don’t even pause for breath.  Build community, participate, be glad to do your bit. Remember all things must pass, and you gotta love and appreciate what and who you got, while you got it.  And them.

Then, fling knitting into the mix.  Knitting vids make life better.  So, make life better.  Do it.

image – Linus Bohman https://www.flickr.com/photos/bohman/ licence https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/, no modifications

Folks, I present to you my random interpretation of the mysterious messages of the universe, 11/12/2017 style.  /bows low, flourishes.  Boshes a top hat on head, bunny scarpers off stage left.

Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water*

3360423993_9460b5baac_z

image _foxy on Flickr https://www.flickr.com/photos/27395274@N00/  licence https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/

I was obliged to take a walk into town today, due to transport issues – GOSH-DARN INTERNAL COMBUSTION ENGINES, WHY WERE THEY EVER INVENTED?  But there were compensations along the way, abundant compensations.  Primary amongst these were the vetches in the hedgerows and the woods – multi-headed purple vetches, and purple vetches are almost my favourite vetches.  (Apart from birdsfoot trefoil, and that’s an unfair competition, because birdsfoot trefoil is also colloquially called eggs-and-bacon in the UK, AND HOW CAN ANY DECENT WILDFLOWER BE EXPECTED TO COMPETE WITH THAT?)

Vetches are the prettiest things.  The internal combustion engine is the annoyingest thing, but vetches are the derndest prettiest things.

Also the blackberries are not quite yet finished off – or pissed on by Satan and rendered inedible, as the folklore has it.  (It’s the maggits in wild brambles that bother me more than Satan’s theoretical outdoor hedgerow slashes while out on the piss.  Copious amounts of salted water, to deal with the wildlife, can render them uneatable anyway.)

4038138088_d64777fe0a_z

image Andrew Barclay https://www.flickr.com/photos/electropod/ on Flickr https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/

There were even some unripe blackberries still hanging high, fruit and flower everywhere, nature in profusion and gloriously fertile.

It rained a little, and I’d forgotten my brolly.  But I didn’t feel I had too much to complain about, all told.  I came back with biscuits, after all – and biscuits are the comfortingest things.

*Brian Jacques.

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 6

spidey2

The Entomologist and NoSpiders-Man – 6

Markov pursed his lips and nodded slightly.  But it was more as if he felt Adam seemed to need the acknowledgement, and he politely offered it, rather than actually being interested. Then he bent to pick up his shopping bags, nodded again and said, “Well, must be getting along. I’ve got some frozen berries in there as well as lamb chops, the heat won’t be doing ’em any good.” And he pulled a key out of his pocket, and turned towards his own apartment door.

What the hell? “What?” Adam asked incredulously. Well, it was a bit of a yelp, actually. “You’re just going to leave me here…stranded?” Maybe he sounded a bit pathetic. But he was practically stranded on a desert island, with nothing but a palm tree and a couple of coconuts to keep him company, here.  Figuratively.

Markov’s shoulders sagged, a little. And he stood a moment, with his key in the lock, and his shopping bags hanging off his arm. “I could call the supervisor for you?” he offered, without even the courtesy of turning around.

“And leave me out here? I’ll freeze! Even if you’re new, you should have realised it takes him hours to respond to a call by now!” Adam whined. It wasn’t that warm anymore, and the chilly breeze was giving him goosebumps. He hardly knew where to put his hands to keep himself decent, and try to keep warm too.

“I’ll fetch you a blanket while you wait?” Markov offered hopefully, turning his head a bit at least. He had to know that Adam was angling for an invite into his apartment while he waited. It would at least be one interesting upside to this whole trauma.

Adam pouted, and Markov caved. Not as far as issuing an invite, but…

Well, a minute and thirty seconds later, Adam was wondering if what he ought to be worrying about was living opposite someone with such impressive lock-picking skills. “I thought you were an entomologist,” he asked, slightly accusing, as Markov pushed open Adam’s front door and gestured to him.  (Much as if to say, ‘Voilà, all yours!’) “Not a locksmith.” (‘Locksmith’ seemed more polite than ‘potential burglar’.) “Where did you get your ‘breaking and entering’ chops?”

 

 

© Alex Ankarr 2017, all rights reserved.  Including the stellar artwork, don’t go stealing my spidey, peoples.

YAY!  6th installment of my bug-hunter/bug-phobic gay romance, here it is!