Buried Treasure, by Benjamin Drevlow

How you’d even react, young buck, if you knew how I ogled, like some long lost uncle, that sliv­er of pale flesh run­ning under the sil­ver cru­ci­fix your girl said she’d nev­er take off, how hard you’ve tried to anoint that sacred inter­sec­tion of her chest you nuz­zle in the morn­ing show­er, of course, only when you’re sport­ing good enough wood and not too hun­gover. Still, my eyes can’t help but con­nect the dots of all those freck­les from too many lazy days like these under the August sun, the two of you laid out across duel­ing beach tow­els like a Cialis com­mer­cial, me plod­ding by with my surf socks and met­al detec­tor, this flop­py hat and Hawai­ian shirt, all that SPF 100 caked up and down my pasty ankles and knees, nose and cheeks, these big gold­en Way­far­ers con­ceal­ing our fleet­ing tryst, me and your girl’s tits.

drevlowBen­jamin Drevlow was the win­ner of the 2006 Many Voic­es Project and the author of a col­lec­tion of short sto­ries, Bend With the Knees and Oth­er Love Advice From My Father (New Rivers Press, 2008). His fic­tion has also appeared in Pas­sages North, Split Lip, and is forth-com­ing at Fic­tion South­east. He is the fic­tion edi­tor at BULL: Men’s Fic­tion, teach­es writ­ing at Geor­gia South­ern Uni­ver­si­ty, and lives both in Geor­gia and online at <www​.the​drevlow​-olson​show​.com>.

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One Response to Buried Treasure, by Benjamin Drevlow

  1. Sheldon Lee Compton says:

    This was great fun. Nice work.

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