fondly imagining it gave him an attitude; a mark of maturity placing him apart from those kids he'd outgrown; he stroked it meditatively, imagined how the girls would be impressed at it's splendour. lost in lascivious thought, oblivious to the knob turning on the bathroom door started at his brother's sardonic voice - "what's with the bum-fluff ... dork?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was written for an Allpoetry Contest "Face Down"
