Hunter stood up straight in bed and rushed to put his shorts back on when Dimas had yelled, “Ida.” Hunter ran to the window, picking up the end of the venetian blind to peer out. All he saw was grayness, rain, and Dimas running, in long pants. He couldn’t make out who or what he was chasing.
Hunter worried what would happen if he actually caught Ida, so he ran downstairs, grabbed an umbrella, making sure to lock the door right behind as quickly as he could. Once he got outside, he walked, he wasn’t sure what direction Dimas had been headed.
“Dimas! Dimas!” Hunter yelled. He walked between two houses looking for signs of his lover. The vibrant green St. Augustine grass that each neighbor treasured and kept uniform in compliance with homeowners’ association rules revealed no footsteps, no
