Eating Ice Cream on the Subway

By: Steve Nugent | Other books by Steve Nugent
Categories: Erotic Romance, Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Short Stories
Word Count: 610
Heat Level: No Rating
Published By: JMS Books LLC

 

"To sin by silence when we should protest makes cowards out of men." Most people know what they'd like to do when confronted with violence, but what really happens when they come face to face with the worst society has to offer? In this short, powerful story, when a man witnesses a hateful, homophobic bashing on the subway, his response might hit a little too close to home for some of us.

This story was first published online at Velvet Mafia and appears in the print collection, Attractions. It is offered here as an example of Steve Nugent's vibrant storytelling at its best.







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Eating Ice Cream on the Subway
Eating Ice Cream on the Subway

Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Microsoft Reader, HTML, Mobipocket, EPUB, Palm DOC/iSolo, Rocket

Price: $0.00



Cover Art by J.M. Snyder

 

 

Excerpt

Christie Station. The woman gets off. Two guys get on and sit together at one end of the car, early twenties I’d say, one in cargo pants and tee, the other tanned, in a tank top and shorts. Talking high and loud to each other about some movie and, with plastic spoons, eating ice cream from the same carton.

I notice the guy opposite me staring at them with a different expression now -- black, you might say. Major shift of mood. He looks across at me and frowns, turns away to look at the couple again, studies the ads above me, mouthing the words. Moving his legs around restlessly he stares at the two guys, then across at me. I look down at his sneakers, won’t meet his gaze. He is trying to draw me in. I won’t go there. He wants approval from me to start something. I won’t get into it at all.

Ossington Station. The couple with the kid gets off. No one gets on. He is staring at me. He wants to see his disgust reflected in my face. The guys are laughing now. They’ve finished the ice cream.

The one in the cargo pants says how cute someone in the movie was.

The other one thought someone else was hunkier.

Then the one in shorts leans forward and looks down at us as if he has just discovered they are not alone, and then they lower their voices and burst out laughing.

All I hear is, “Wouldn’t kick him out of bed ...”

I watch the guy opposite. He sits up straight, leans forward, stares at me, challenging me, and he quickly turns towards them, glaring. Then he shouts. “Keep your fuckin’ faggot talk to yourself.”