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Mark Kolke's avatar

I've copied this section quite randomly:

But when I think of Tock, I don’t consider what jacket he’s wearing, or if, in fact, he’s wearing anything at all. Instead, I recall the intent expression in his eyes as he switches his gaze back and forth between me and the object he wants me to throw. I think of his confidence when his ears and tail are upright, or his fear when he runs up to me, ears pressed back, tail between his legs. His boastfulness (and naughtiness) when he leaps up on me to show off the latest pinecone in his collection. His happiness to see me when he “grins” as I come in the door. His obsessive desire for toys exhibited by pawing at something, though often the thing he’s pawing isn’t the thing he actually wants. His desire to be as big a pest as possible and get me to pay attention to him either by standing at my elbow while I’m typing, or by diving between my legs while we’re on a walk. I’m not sure what he’s thinking when he sings along to my son’s clarinet and saxophone, but he’s adorable nonetheless.

Here's my redraft - imagine you are at a mountain home, your infrequent guest (he's a spy, he travels a lot in his work, but when he can, he comes to you ...) and you are a writer, sitting at your keyboard, these are the words you write:

But when I think of him, I don’t consider what jacket he’s wearing, or if, in fact, he’s wearing anything at all. Instead, I recall the intent expression in his eyes as he switches his gaze back and forth between me and the everything else in the room.

I think of his confidence when he grabs me and presses his attention – to me against a wall, or in a dark corner for those stolen moments away from the cacophony of the party. His boldness (and naughtiness) when he sneaks up on me to remind me how my pulse quickens to his touch.

My happiness to see him as he grins, as I come in the door. His obsessive desire for me, with or without any amusement from my bedside toy drawer, though often the thing he’s asking me for is not what he actually wants because he focuses more on my pleasure.

His desire to be the best lover possible is not pale compared to mine which I hide, even from him, whether I’m typing this scene in my my screenplay script, or when he is being a pesky nuisance – or when he is diving between my legs ….

I’m never sure what he’s thinking when he hums along to the sultry jazz tunes I have on, always, or anything else inane he might unexpectedly do, he's adorable nonetheless.

As I read that portion of your piece - and maybe it's because I've been immersed the last couple of hours writing some steamy / intrigue filled pages for my novel, so my mindset/libido might be as involved as much as my keyboard, so maybe this is a stretch, or maybe it's a writing prompt idea that might be explored - so rather than think about it as potential fun, I gave it a few minutes - and it was real fun.

Hope you enjoy.

Cheers,

Mark

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Good Humor by CK Steefel's avatar

Hand me down dog jackets. Love it. Apollo is a “wide load” and doesn’t fit into his predecessors jacket. His current jacket fits snugly and only when his fur is cut short. I love dog clothing. If I ever have a girl dog she will have all the princess accouterments. Hehehe.

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