Or maybe it was a memory; Dad had taken me to visit his father,my grandfather, on his death bed in a place similar to this, and thesight of him on tha... bed had stuck in my mind with quiet horror.Whatever the case, I could do something about it. I drew a syringe outof my front pocket and stabbed it in into my arm, feeling nothingthrough the pain dampening but a foreign presence penetrating my flesh.It ended in a grating sensation. A little too deep; I'd hit the bone. Ipulled the needle back out. "They asked me to go to a gay dance," Garrett said."Dude, it'd be perfect for you," Bryson said. "Maybe you'd stop dreamingabout that dude and find someone here." Bryson, I'm perfectly happy the way things are," Garrett statedemphatically."Oh lay over there and dream about something that will never happenagain..." You don't know that," Garrett said."All I know is that dude must be more fucking desperate than you to travelabout a thousand miles to get some dick," Bryson said."Well, if you. More

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