Thursday, Halloween. Our final class together. Our writing masks were removed, and our souls were revealed as authors. Standing at the front of the class as he did on our first day, ankles crossed and leaning his buttocks on the edge of his teacher’s desk, sure of himself, and looking handsome, he told us, “Some of you will write. Others won’t. I’m here if you need me for help. It’s been fun, challenging, and an exciting six weeks. I’ve enjoyed myself, and I hope that all of you have done the same. Until we meet again, my friends.”
He said goodbye to us all, except for me.
After everyone emptied out of the classroom, he forcefully drew me in his arms, banged his chest off mine, and kissed me; this time with tongue, deeply, perhaps hungry for me. When the kiss ended, he reached between my
