Marty's more than a little surprised when the sidewalk psychic who hangs out between the liquor store and the flower shop says that somebody’s in love with him. Who could it be? Marty's got no prospects. Even the girls at work take no interest in him—or in his co-worker Cameron. Still, every time he sees the psychic, she insists he's more loved than he knows.
When Marty's beloved grandmother dies, Cameron is the only person from work who shows up at the funeral. Marty tries to be a pillar for his mother and aunt, but all he wants to do is join his friend in the back row and cry in Cameron's arms. Afterwards, Cameron takes care of him, feeding him homemade soup and being the best friend Marty could ever imagine. Still, he doesn't see it coming when Cameron kisses him. They’ve always been buddies, nothing more. Can Marty make the transition from friend to lover?
A gay friends-become-lovers romance short from award-winning queer Canadian author Giselle Renarde.
Genre: FICTION / GayLooking to take on a quick project? Here it is! This gay romance is a short story of only 4,400 words. You'll be done in no time. :-)
Marty always walked like he was in a hurry, whether or not he had somewhere to be.
When he first caught sight of the sidewalk psychic, he was on his way to the liquor store. It would have been obvious what she did for a living even without the sandwich board that said “Sidewalk Psychic.” She wore a long dress and three shades of velvet. Her hair was long too, and beaded like the jewellery around her neck.
Marty’s gait slowed as he approached the makeshift booth. There was a small part of him that still wanted to be an innocent little boy. That part was fascinated by her. He’d always liked things that were a little mystical, a little unworldly.
“Tell your fortune?” the psychic asked. Her accent was thick and probably fake, but Marty appreciated the woman’s theatricality.
He tapped his toe on the sidewalk. The liquor store was just a stone’s throw away.
“I’m kind of in a rush,” he said. “It’s my grandmother’s eightieth birthday and I still need to pick up a gift.”
The psychic scrunched up her nose. “At the liquor store?”
Marty shrugged. “It’s that or flowers. But I know my gran, and my gran loves Jack Daniels.”
| Language | Status |
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Okey Dokey
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Sandra Costa
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Spanish
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Oriana Sanchez
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