Take the inventiveness and playfulness—and respect for the trade of fiction writing—of two different writers, Sabb on the East Coast of Australia, and habu on the East Coast of the United States. Drop between them the unlikely image of an angel appearing in the window of a barn, with a key phrase to be used by both. Then toss in the bomb that they each are to write a gay male story that has to deal with an unsuccessful suicide attempt—and can have the ending of the author’s choice—and, of course, must drip with hot male-male sex. Send the dueling writers to their separate corners with the assignment to turn up the next day with a fully developed story. Do all of this and Angels in the Barn is one version of what you get.
“I came at it from the rear, seeing the high window lit with the full afternoon sun, and I saw him there caught in the sun, naked and golden, like some lost angel. Perched up there on the windowsill with his arms spread wide hanging on to the frame. He is the reason I remember the barn so well.”
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