THE DAILY ASSIGNATION: Day 21 "Ace"

The weather's got it all wrong. Licking wind in the low-light morning only to have the sun shine everything too vibrant  by noon. It's spring. The dead leaves are still on the ground. Instead of falling in fall as they should, they detached  from the branches in winter, and even too late in winter for all of the leaves to depart. There was not one barren branch for all the chill of the year end. Now, spring came and the brown autumn leaves where strewn about. The pollen has popped and the fine dust of it is everywhere. It's not as bad as yesterday, the powder has dissipated so now there's  only a dull hue's hint to everything. Everything was slightly yellow. -- Jamie's cum got on the carpet, missing his intended  target. "Damn." The rent boy smiled, licking the lube landed cock. "How did I miss?"; "What does it matter?" said the kid, he looked underage (which was part of his appeal), and he was too high to know much of what was happening when it was happening. Half way thru sex the boy realize that that's  what was being done to him. "Get on the bed," the boy obeyed. Jamie lifted the whore's legs up exposing the already-loose mussy. He tried to remember the rent boy's name as he stared into the hole. His face held the same expression as if he were looking at a bus schedule. -- Spring brings out the crazies. -- It's freak season. -- News Flash: It's now been declared open season in this great state of ours. Open season, that is, for Diddlers, Heathens and All Around Degenerates. -- A gaggle of Flashers/Diddlers stand about in a forest, cocks out, of course, shaking a bi in fear. Then comes the sound that all people fear: A ford f 150 with a dixie horn blaring AC/DC coming through the trees. Hicks dressed to the nines for a hunting occasion, woo that way that hicks woo. The Flashers/Diddlers scatter, cocks limply flopping about, making their clucking sounds. As they flee the hicks fire off their shotgun rounds and the forest is filled with the sounds of boom extravagance. Today was a fine spring day in America. -- Everything has a little tint of yellow. Like fading phosphorus. But the world smelt fresh, As if it wasnt dying. -- The crazies were coming out.