A Place of Safety - Derry / New World For Old / Home Not Home

A Place of Safety - Derry / New World For Old / Home Not Home
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Wednesday, November 12, 2025

A bit of chapter four...

Adam's been at the home a year, now...


I was hurrying back from the book store and about to turn into the shadows, keeping as quiet as possible, when I noticed a car on the opposing corner. The same type Rav4 as my father’s. Same color. I had not seen it around here, before, and... 

“Adam!” 

Reynard exited the driver’s side. Which made no sense. How did he know where I lived? 

“I’ve been trying to find you,” he continued, rushing across the street to me. “They said you were in that house and...” 

“Who said?” I snapped. His betrayal was still too fresh in my heart to be polite with him. 

“Doesn’t matter. I need to speak with you.” 

“To what purpose?” 

“I should never had told Papa about you.” 

This made me wary. Reynard had never apologized, before. Still it made me a bit less angry. “It is good you think so.” 

“It was a stupid thing to do. If I had thought through the consequences, I would never have done it.” 

I shrugged. “It’s done. Did Papa send you? Maman?” 

“My God, no. They would kill me if they thought I was here. They say you are dead.” 

I felt my breath leave my body. Perhaps even my spirit. “Is that what you came to tell me?” I whispered. 

“No, no, I...I just need you to let Papa know I did not know what you had become until that night.” 

My brain shut down. I could not formulate a single word except, “What?” 

“He thinks I hid your ways from him. And wonders if I have the same sickness. And I tell him over and over, no, I only suspected until...” 

“Stop!” That was the only other word I could think of. None of he said made sense to me. 

“I just...please, Papa does not believe me. He and Maman watch me, constantly. Have begun to control everything about my life to be sure I do not become like you and...” 

“STOP! It’s not enough you killed me?” 

“Killed you? No, no, you are right here and you have a nice home and room and...” 

“Who tells you this? Who told where I am?” 

“Adam, what is happening to me is your fault! I want you to take care of it. End it.” 

My book was in my right hand so I could not grab Reynard except with the other. Which I did, screaming, “How did you find me?” 

He shoved me away, growing angry. “Why are you getting so angry? I’m the one being ruined by your actions!” 

“You tell me. TELL ME!” I screamed that. 

“Here, see this?” 

He showed me the remains of an envelope with my name and this address. In a corner. Like in case of return. And I recognized the handwriting. 

Rory. He always puts a line through his zeroes. 

“No one read it,” Reynard spit at me. “No one wants to hear from you. But I was interrogated for days on whether or not I’d received other letters from you and I said no, over and over and over, but they don’t believe me so you have to tell them so. If you don’t, they will not let me attend Carelton. They think Ottawa is the center for more people like you and...” 

I hit him. 

With my fist...holding my book. 

In the mouth. 

I don’t know which of us was more surprised. 

Blood trailed from his lower lip so, of course, he returned the punch into my face and also my side. I stumbled back and dropped my book. He kicked it, I think without meaning to but still, that infuriated me and I jumped on him. We fell into a bank of snow, howling and kicking and punching at each other like two alley cats fighting over nothing. 

The door to the house opened and the good Christian man came out, snarling, “What are you doing?!” 

I was on my back so Reynard bolted to his feet. Despite the shadows, I noticed his nose was also bleeding and his eyes were filled with madness. He cast a glare at the man then ran off. 

I staggered back to my feet and stood there. Watching him vanish into Papa’s Rav4. And drive away. Into the darkness. 

I was trembling, not from cold. From absolute fury. He destroys my life them wants me to make his whole? As if he has the right to ask for that?

I saw my book was half in a puddle and that added to my anger. I picked it up and realized the man was asking me a question. Very insistently asking. I had to look at him to understand it. 

“Who was that boy?” 

I could not think of what to answer. Just stood there, swaying a little. Not yet hurting...and still rather shocked at how I’d fought Reynard. He had always been bigger and stronger, and it is true I had grown and I was trying to build my own body, a little...but I hadn’t even thought about what I was doing. It was simply reaction to his disgusting demand. 

I heard the question, again, and managed to say, “Someone I used to know.”

Tuesday, November 11, 2025

Here we go...Fascism Central...

This was written nearly 3 months ago, and it's long, but it's important to keep in mind after the Hated 8 in the Senate stabbed us in the back in exchange for...nothing...and the MAGAt Cult continues to rejoice in the idea of destroying the country just to own the libs. It's obscene.

America tips into fascism — 

"Something is materially different in our country this week than last," writes historian Garrett Graff. 

The United States, just months before its 250th birthday as the world’s leading democracy, has tipped over the edge into authoritarianism and fascism. In the end, faster than I imagined possible, it did happen here. The precise moment when and where in recent weeks America crossed that invisible line from democracy into authoritarianism can and will be debated by future historians, but it’s clear that the line itself has been crossed. 

I think many Americans wrongly believe there would be one clear unambiguous moment where we go from “democracy” to “authoritarianism.” Instead, this is exactly how it happens — a blurring here, a norm destroyed there, a presidential diktat unchallenged. Then you wake up one morning and our country is different. 

Today, August 25, 2025, is that morning. Something is materially different in our country this week than last. Everything else from here on out is just a matter of degree and wondering how bad it will get and how far it will go? Do we end up “merely” like Hungary or do we go all the way toward an “American Reich”? So far, after years of studying World War II, I fear that America’s trajectory feels more like Berlin circa 1933 than it does Budapest circa 2015.

I debated in recent days whether this column should be written by our fearless foreign correspondent William Boot, who started satirically chronicling the backsliding of American democracy in January and the willful destruction of the federal government, but it seems more important to write plainly.

Saying that our country has tipped over an invisible edge into an authoritarian state plainly is important — and easier than most in the media and pundit class will pretend it is. They will presumably for some period of time — perhaps even a long period of time — stick to euphemisms (with lines like “No president has asserted such direct and sweeping control over the nation's capital” and “Through immigration crackdowns and cultural purges, President Trump is wielding government power to enforce a more rigid, exclusionary definition of what it means to be American.”) and continue to give voice to “both siders,” but the reality is that only one political party is responsible for this moment. They will say that Trump’s motives are inscrutable or unclear — but the effect of Trump’s governing style is undeniable. 

American fascism looks like the president using armed military units from governors loyal to his regime to seize cities run by opposition political figures and it looks like the president using federal law enforcement to target regime opponents. 

American fascism looks like the would-be self-proclaimed king deploying the military on US soil not only not in response to requests by local or state officials but over — and almost specifically to spite — their vociferous objections. 

The president’s military occupation of the capital has escalated in recent days into something not seen since British troops marched the streets of colonial Boston — even though precisely nothing has happened to warrant it, the Pentagon has now armed the National Guard patrolling DC and armored vehicles, designed for the worst of combat, are patrolling the capital, where they’re colliding with civilian vehicles because war transports are not supposed to be on civilian streets. (Why a 14-ton MRAP is in any way necessary for a domestic police mission is its own worthy line of questioning!)

Word came over the weekend that the president is now drawing up plans and explicitly threatening domestic political opponents like the governors of California and Illinois with similar military occupations — exercising emergency powers in a moment where the only emergency is his own abuse of power.

Civilians who try lawfully to exercise their right to document the abuses of the regime are themselves arrested and charged with felonies through trumped-up charges teeming with official lies. The fact that this military takeover and federal occupation is being done to the city’s residents — and not on their behalf — is evident in how deserted DC has become as residents refuse to enter public spaces where they might have to interact with agents of the state.

America has become a country where armed officers of the state shout “Papers please!” on the street at men and women heading home from work, a vision we associate with the Gestapo in Nazi Germany or the KGB in Soviet Russia, and where masked men wrestle to the ground and abduct people without due process into unmarked vehicles, disappearing them into an opaque system where their family members beg for information.

It looks like a president, who is supposed to be the figurehead of the party of small government, is extorting US companies for the regular act of doing business — earning his good will in recent weeks has required seizing parts of major US companies or imposing bizarre taxes on others in exchange for his personal support.

It looks like a country where our largest and most powerful corporate titans line up to pay tribute personally — delivering literal gold to the president in full view of cameras — and where foreign governments bribe him with largesse as gross as a 747 plane for his personal use after he leaves office, and where media companies have to censor their own staffs in order to be allowed to operate.

It looks like a country where inconvenient figures are kidnapped and disappeared overseas to torture gulags with no due process or dumped in countries where they have no possible connection. Kilmar Albrego Garcia has been punished for months with the full weight of the US government simply because he embarrassed the Trump administration. It looks like a country where the government, devoid of irony, is reopening concentration camps on the site of some of the country’s darkest hours of history where it previously hosted concentration camps. 

It looks like a government where agency by department, people who try to uphold the rule of law are being purged — sometimes for nothing more than personal friendships or because they voiced an inconvenient fact, and where even the loyalists deemed insufficiently loyal are cashiered. Billy Long, the stunningly unqualified former cattle auctioneer placed in charge of the IRS, evidently was removed after he tried to uphold the most basic legal requirements for sharing taxpayer data. 

It looks like a country where Trump assumes he can control and dictate our history, what books we read, our arts, and even our sports heroes. He assumes there is no line between his taste and our nation. 

Just months short of the nation’s 250th birthday, Donald Trump is close to batting a thousand at speed-running the very abuses of power that led to the Founders to write the Declaration of Independence in the first place. Does any of this sound familiar:

  • He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good. 
  • For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments 
  • He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures. 
  • He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance. 
  • He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers. 
  • He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us. 
  • For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world 
  • For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent 
  • For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury 
  • For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences 
  • And so on. 
One could say that Trump has blown through the nation’s constitutional and political guardrails, but a more accurate assessment is that both Congress and the Supreme Court — who have, as I wrote earlier this spring, effectively rolled over and played dead when it comes to their constitutional duty to exert checks and balances — removed those guardrails helpfully in advance. 

In a dissent last week, Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson compared the Court’s current approach, which has allowed Trump to streamroll past the normal constraints of the presidency through one procedural sleight-of-hand after another, to the game Calvinball, played by Calvin & Hobbes. “Today’s ruling is of a piece with this Court’s recent tendencies. ‘[R]ight when the Judiciary should be hunkering down to do all it can to preserve the law’s constraints,’ the Court opts instead to make vindicating the rule of law and preventing manifestly injurious Government action as difficult as possible,” she writes. “This is Calvinball jurisprudence with a twist. Calvinball has only one rule: There are no fixed rules. We seem to have two: that one, and this Administration always wins.” 

The response, meanwhile, by Democrats has been unconscionably weak. It’s no coincidence that governors like Gavin Newsom and J.B. Pritzker have been the leaders of recent days; they are clear-eyed about what is happening. As Greg Sargent writes, “Newsom shapes everything around the brute fact that Trump is serially breaking the law and using government sponsored violence and intimidation to entrench authoritarian power. He accepts this as the core fact of our moment.” 

By contrast, I challenge you to find even a moderately tepid and clear-eyed statement from any national Democrat. National Democrats seem all invisible as the military takes over policing the streets of the capital and prosecuting its crimes. This should be a lay-up to oppose — the most basic duty of any congressional figure, and yet, “House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries and Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer, along with other senior Democrats, have not been a part of any concerted effort to voice opposition to the occupation.” 

It’s still a party paralyzed by their own creaking gerontocracy; DC’s own nearly ninety-year-old congressional delegate hasn’t been seen in public since the occupation of her city — and her statement protesting it was accompanied by a photo of her at a different, previous, unrelated protest. 

There’s a story that I think a lot about — on September 29, 2008, I went to one of those friendly background lunches that reporters in D.C. do all the time with newsmakers. It was the heart of the financial crisis and a group of us were meeting with Rep. Eric Cantor, a rising star in the GOP and party whip. The House was about to vote on a bailout for Wall Street that effectively everyone agreed was necessary to hold together the global economy — President Bush, Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson, Fed chair Ben Bernanke, GOP presidential nominee John McCain (who had even suspended his campaign to focus on the crisis) and Democratic nominee Barack Obama. Cantor casually told us over lunch that his caucus was going to vote it down. We reporters, many of them far more experienced Hill veterans than me, were incredulous — all of his party’s leaders, the ones in the roles who knew the stake, the ones the party was supposed to listen to and follow, said this was critical — and yet the House GOP was going to let it burn? 

Cantor was right — the House voted down the bailout and the stock market dropped 800 points. The end seemed nigh. 

I remember walking out of that luncheon feeling like I had glimpsed something important. The beating heart of the GOP no longer cared about principles or policy. There was a nihilist wing in control that scared me; they were happy to let it all burn. For years in covering the rise (and return) of Trump and Trumpism, I imagined there was some line that the GOP would not be willing to compromise for greed and power — some incident that would bring party leaders to their senses, some principle or red-line would be unwilling to trade or cross in pursuit of furthering Trump’s agenda. Even after January 6th, I held hope that might be the end. But then Eric Cantor’s buddy Kevin McCarthy showed up at Mar-a-Lago and the rehabilitation tour began. 

It has led here, to this moment, where all three branches of the GOP-controlled government have been willing to torch the republic and democracy that generations of elected officials and citizens have tended for 249 years simply to please Donald Trump and avoid running afoul of his temper. 

Where America goes from here is a story yet to be written. It will surely get worse — Trump’s push now is clearly focused on locking in an illegitimate claim to power. Whether we can come back from this moment is a story yet unknown. But it’s clear today America is different and, even if we fight our way back, it will never be the same.

Monday, November 10, 2025

Sketches help...

 I'd done these in pencil, very rough ideas, so today inked them in to help me picture what it is I'm writing. Now that I have it settled in my head, I can move on to Chapter Four of DW.

Here's the overview of the house. Nice and normal-looking, but with a back entrance to the garage, off an alleyway. Lots of tall bushes and trees.

A covered walkway connects the house to the garage, and I decided not to bother with a raised pool. There are also flower beds along the house, garage and back wall.


This is the 3/4 view. Makes everything a bit more obvious.

Interior downstairs and basement. Staircase leading up, at the back, and also going down to the basement. The door to the garage is also in this area.

The basement has Rory's room and games and TV and such, with a small library.

Interior upstairs, with Adam's room filled in. Six rooms, two bathrooms total.

I'm not of a mind to do the garage's interior.

I also spent some time howling online about the treason of 8 Democrats, who aligned with the GOP to end the shutdown. I don't think they expected the pushback and anger being directed at them. They've already posted videos justifying their decision.

That's the Democratic Party -- once, again, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. There's still a chance this vile deal won't happen. They have one more vote requiring 60 Senators to say Aye, so they might flip back. But it's not guaranteed.

Just like assurances from the GOP they'd hold a vote on the ACA credits are already vanishing, thanks to Johnson's refusal to promise a vote in the House. To no one's surprise.

I'm so disgusted with them...

Sunday, November 9, 2025

When in doubt, make it up...

I sat down and spent a couple hours working out what I needed for the boys' home in Chapter Three, diagraming and sketching and tossing aside ideas, and searching the streets of Montréal to make sure I could do what I planned to do (thank you Google Maps). And what I came up with is livable. Even believable.

I went up the Island on Montréal to where the yards were more spacious and the St. Lawrence River merged with the Prairies River. I built a corner lot with lots of trees and shrubs, a detached garage in a back corner connected to the house by an enclosed walkway, and structured a house with two floors and a basement.

First floor is sitting room, dining room and kitchen on one side of a center hallway; the other side is the owner's living quarters. Six rooms upstairs, with gable windows, a bathroom and a closet of things. The basement is the game room and library, with another private room for one of the boys and another bathroom.

The garage has been done over into two rooms where the boys go to meet with their visitors. Also, while drugs are not officially allowed that is not strictly enforced. Adam does pot in a bong and smokes cigarettes, and a couple of the boys use drugs to numb being used.

I feel a lot better about it, now. I might add a second bathroom upstairs. I'll think about that. But it would make sense. Maybe one that's just a shower, no tub. And a free-standing pool in back?

I like being at the point where I can fuss over details instead of messy structure.

Saturday, November 8, 2025

Plausibility problem

I've run headlong into an issue that really cannot be shoved aside. Adam is handled as a runaway by the authorities. Because his parents do not want him back, he is handed over to a foster home. Where the owner of the home is really a pimp for the boys staying there. Only boys. Mid-teens.

The intent is for them to have a place to live until they're old enough to handle things on their own. But it's really a male whorehouse, with carefully selected clients who drop by for their fun.

Well, that's raised an issue I cannot get around. Where can this kind of place be situated, in Montréal? If it's in a residential area, neighbors will eventually notice the comings and going of middle-age males into the house.

If it's located in an industrial area that's pretty much shut down after six, it would stand out as unusual and bring unwanted attention. Putting it downtown doesn't work, either, nor in the Old City.

No matter what, the way I have it written now is not realistic. And I'm blocked trying to figure it out. Because the alternative at the moment is for Adam to be homeless and standing outside the bus stations waiting for some old man to pick him up and pay him enough to buy a meal and room for the night.

That or wind up a kept boy for sugar-daddy kind of guy. And neither really works for me.

I've thought of just passing by it, but this part of his life informs on so much else so it needs to work. Otherwise, I'd have to chuck large portions of what I've already written and infused into his story with Dair.

And Adam's not exactly being helpful. The little shit.

Friday, November 7, 2025

I may have to get rid of my car...

I just spent $1000+ getting it in shape for winter. Tires rotated, new oil, full fluids, air filter, tune up with new plugs and distributor cap, oil seepage noted, battery replaced, lubes and labor...and a lecture on how my car's body needs attention. Which it does, but I only have 1 rust spot on it; the rest are just dings.

In the last 12 months I've spent thousands of dollars on it. I love my car, but for that kind of money I could be in a new one that's under warrantee. I like the HRVs, except for all the electronic crap and it not being available with a stick. It would have been the right height for me to get in and out of, though.

Thing is, I can't keep up this kind of expense. $1300 a year for insurance! Things going wrong because the car's 27 years old? And I don't even drive it that much. Maybe 200-250 miles a month. There's been occasions I've gone 2 months before needing to gas up.

But having a car helps so much. Groceries. Dr. appointments. Going into Caladex, now and then. I mean, I could do that on the bus; I managed in LA for nearly 2 years, with no car. But it's a real hassle. And Uber's not that cheap.

Crap, I don't need to be worrying about this, right now. I had the money, fortunately...so I didn't have to hit up my savings. I'm just...just tired of always being on the edge of broke.

Of course, Adam is saying, Let's use this for me. Even more-so, because I have no driving license. To which I reply, It's not the same fucking thing, asshole.

I dunno...maybe the fates are telling me it's time to stop driving before I hurt somebody. Even though I haven't hit anyone in nearly three years, and that time was so slight it didn't cost much to handle.

Shit, is anybody out there willing to gift me half a million bucks so I can move to Dublin or London?

Thursday, November 6, 2025

Nothing on DW, today...

This is what I've been doing. I'm sick and tired of Democrats barely fighting back against the GOP's shutdown of the government and their push towards fascism, so I worked this up and have been spreading it around. Sent it off to both my Senators...Gillibrand and Schumer...and Rep. Kennedy.

It's not much, and I have no idea if it will get any traction, but I have gotten some decent feedback. And this image of the moon caught in a rainbow makes me feel hopeful.

Would you be willing to do the following to fight back against the GOP, on behalf of Democrats?

1. Rallies like AOC and Bernie did? 

  • a. Record them 
  • b. Talk to people 
  • c. Broadcast it on their social media 

2. Hold town halls in across the state? 

  • a. Record them 
  • b. Talk to people 
  • c. Broadcast it on your social media 

3. Hold town halls in Republican districts? 

  • a. “Your rep may not care but we do.” 
  • b. Record them 
  • c. Talk to people 
  • d. Broadcast it on your social media 

4. Make it clear to the MSM Democrats are in Washington ready to talk while Republicans are on vacation? 

  • a. News conferences. 
  • b. Going on MSM and cable news to press the case and keep blaming Republicans for this 
  • c. Argue back when any moderator tries to make it Democrats’ fault 

5. Table setups like Yassamin Ansari outside the Speaker’s office? 

6. Go en mass to the White House to meet with the president? He won’t do it, but the optics would be great for us. 

7. Keep publicizing the hell out of what’s been shut down and how it’s affecting Americans? 

  • a. Museums in Washington 
  • b. Air traffic control disrupting holiday travel and damaging safety

For some reason it's gotten me three message requests on Instagram from women who want to show me their tits. Blocked 'em all. That is NOT my thing. I just hope it resonates with other Democrats and liberals.

Wednesday, November 5, 2025

Discomforting...

I tapped into a part of me I usually try to ignore, today. I sat down and opened a Word doc to add notes to DW...and instead wrote about Reynard appearing outside the home Adam now lives in.

How did he find Adam? Reynard inadvertently reveals Rory, one of the boys in the home, wrote to their parents, but instead of reading the letter, they'd shredded it. Reynard saw the return address in the trash and came to demand Adam help him.

The Lécuyers believe Reynard was hiding Adam's homosexuality and are punishing him for it. Without really knowing what he's doing, he lets Adam know his parents consider him dead, and he acts like it's Adam's duty to clarify that him choosing to be gay was a secret from him as well. 

Deeply hurt, Adam punches him. They get into a serious brawl in front of the home and the good Christian man who pimps Adam out has to intervene. Reynard runs off, and Adam is left bloodied and blank of mind...and aware that the life he was trying to build in that home is no more.

This...part of this...grew out of something that happened to me as a child. I was born with health issues, some very serious. Turned out, my father had knocked up another woman, just before my mother became pregnant, and she'd borne him a healthy son. So he decided he didn't want me or my mother; he wanted to stay with that woman.

My mother and I were shipped off to San Antonio, to live. My mother got married, again, when I was four to man in the Air Force. In order for me to get benefits, I had to be his legal child, so she contacted my father and asked if it would be okay for him to adopt me.

My father, effectively, said, "Yeah, sure, take him. I don't want him." So when I was five, I was given a new last name -- Sullivan. Didn't see anyone in my father's side of the family till I was in my twenties.

The abandonment of this still messes with me and my belief I'm not worthy of being wanted. Doesn't help many other aspects of my life reinforced this feeling. Things I had had no control over. But this is mainly responsible for me being alone for the last forty years.

Adam is bringing this forward...and I'm letting him...but shit, it fucks me up.

Tuesday, November 4, 2025

Not rushing...

I'm fighting my natural inclination to make what I've written good-enough for now so I can jump to the next part, but instead am making myself redo each chapter till they are as tight as I can make them. 

I've almost worked like this, before, but cast it aside once I reached a certain point in the story. I'm not doing that, this time. This book is not going to be good, if I can help it; it will be fan-fucking-tastic.

My initial work with APoS was like that, but more like getting it into order. Roughing it out. Then I began working through each volume A-Z, and that seemed to do right for it. I wanted a bit of sweep to the story as well as centering it in Brendan's life.

With DW, I want it more intimate. No real sweep; just people existing and connecting and ricocheting off each other...

Wow...I just had an image of pool balls clacking all over the table but not dropping into the pockets. Funny.

...Anyway, for that to work I need to have a solid grasp of their stories. Not just Adam's and Dair's, but peripheral characters like Loren...and Rory...and even Reynard, Adam's brother.

He shows up outside the home and wants Adam to say he's okay with how things turned out. Suggests it's his own fault he had to be outed. Didn't expect so violent a reaction. And gets angry when Adam refuses to provide him with absolution.

That'll be in Chapter Four, where Adam winds up beaten by a visitor and decides to leave Montréal. His attitude will be, No matter where I go, it cannot be worse than where I am.

I've done that, myself, but always fallen back into the same habits. I'm hoping I can work with Adam not to let that happen with his story...

Monday, November 3, 2025

When in doubt...

Add a new character and some dialogue. This image popped up on Tumblr and it was so filled with emotion, I had to use it in Dair's Window.

This kid looks exhausted and a bit lost, to me. Been workin' his ass off and now is having maybe some soup or stew for lunch, with a cup of coffee next to him. And a smoke. Before getting back to the grind.

I added it to a part of Chapter Three where one of the guys disappears, overnight, and Adam notices this guy is turning over the soil in the flowerbeds behind the house...and starts a conversation...

Because he finds the guy attractive. His name's Loren, and it comes out he's married, has a kid...and was a former inhabitant of the house.

That added so many levels of possibility that this whole section got shifted to Chapter Four, leaving me plenty of room to expand on the boys in Chapter Three. I want to keep it under 3000 words? Done.

All without a deliberate plan. just being open to opportunities that might arise.

I keep telling myself to trust the process then do everything I can not to trust it. Silly me.

My only worry, now, is keeping it from turning into padding, making the story bigger while adding nothing. I can easily do that.