The old tree stump
The louche naked man with the COCK mask strolls towards the old tree stump in a gap in the hedgerow. It was once a great tree dominating its corner of the field providing shelter to passersby on rainy days and shade for friends on sunny days. It once provided a roost for the cock of the yard to keep an eye on the hens, a place to crow about. It was a boundary, a barrier keeping the yard on this side and outside on that. It is still impressive, as stumps of very old trees are, but it no longer provides leafy shade or shelter from the rain. And a path cuts through the gap between the stump and the hedge; however, it is still a good place for friends to meet on a sunny day.
The louche naked man with the COCK mask wants a friend. Wants to be able to give glances, smiles, little acknowledgements of support. Wants to feel there is someone who will say: well, that was a bit weird, wasn’t it? Wants someone to help make the struggle of understanding this strange place a little more pleasurable, for it is those little moments of connection that turn the difficult into manageable and the mundane into joy. It is those little moments of joy that connect together into friendship, support and even love. Sometimes. (talk)
The louche naked man with the COCK mask treats strangers and potential friends. Treats new encounters as an opportunity to make a new friend with a gentle and appreciative approach to allow the best qualities of the person to shine through. Treats strangers as if they will choose the same approach, as if they want to make new friends too. Treats strangers this way but knows some do not want to make friends. Some fear the unknown, and worry about being embarrassed by strangers' strangeness. Think the best of people and they will think the best of you. Sometimes. Sometime it is easy to fall into the trap of thinking difference is strangeness, in this place, the House of Masks, strangeness is put on display through the mask that hides the face, the expression, the small clues. And do are other people used to this strangeness, will they use it against you.
The louche naked man with the COCK mask imagines making a friend without using words, without falling back on the phrases that signal an interest. Imagines strolling towards someone, that naked man with the dog MASK, maybe, the one who has been ambling about yard, lingering in the shade, pissing on the fence. Imagines the open body strange signalling I am here, as the naked man in the dog MASK gets closer keeping steady, concentrating on repeating the words: you want this as much as I do.. . Imagines the small gestures that signal interest, a touch on the back of the hand, or on the shoulder, nothing too intimate, nothing too invasive. Imagines working out the boundaries, not touching the handsome dog MASK, keeping all touches human, pretending the animal masks are normal, not a sign of character or creed.
The louche naked man with the COCK mask thinks about all the things to be done with the naked man with the DOG mask that do not involve talking or touching each other’s mask, but thinks mostly of one thing, one adult thing.
The louche naked man with the COCK mast looks across at the naked man with the dog mask nosing across the yard, gradually approaching closer, with more confidence until suddenly they seem to be in a dance. A move to the left, then a step to the right, put your hands on my hips, like they were performing a warm up exercise at the dance school: choose an animal and dance your way to an intimate encounter. See my chicken arms. Watch my bounding hound. And the encounter becomes intimate quickly. A hand on a thigh. A brush across a stomach. A lingering press against the buttocks. Pressing the groin long enough to feel the rising. A hand reaching. Directing, Pressing, rubbing, stroking fucking.
The tannoy interrupts: THE COCK, THE DOG AND THE FOX HAS COMMENCED AT THE OLD TREE STUMP.
The louche naked man with the COCK mask climbs to perch on the stump.
The straw yard
COCK
The cock loves being amongst the hens.
The cock can mate a dozen times a...
