Vega
Memoir published in The Rambler Magazine, Mar/April 2009

“They are huge, these boys. They smell like Old Spice and menthol cigarettes. There is something like anger pushing up inside them. I can hear it in their clipped accents, feel it in the sharpness of their gaze. Their bodies, even in graceful motion, are always fighting.

Their limbs swing and fly, threads of sweat sliding off them into the air. They are louder when we watch, pushing each other harder, showing off. I can feel my effect: a current between my body and theirs. Watching them, I feel myself shimmering like that mirage at the end of the street, pavement made into liquid by the heat and their eyes.”