Low Hollow
“Steve, did you pass out?” Gio panted in bed, next to Steve. He stared down at Steve, shock on his face. “You did, didn’t you?”
“I’m not sure what happened.”
Steve looked around the bedroom, coming to and pulling out of that faraway and unknown place in his subconscious that he had called the meadow. He saw familiar things again inside the room: Gio’s gold wristwatch on the dresser, reflecting in the dim light, a gift from Steve to him the summer before last while they visited Italy for a week; a photograph of the two of them bare-chested, on vacation again in Naples, Florida, sunbathing along the Gulf; a plastic hanger on the doorknob to his left, looking lonely, ready for use.
“Jesus, I have to be more careful with you.” Gio climbed off the bed and fetched them both towels
