At the top of the stairs there was a studio a separate room with a large window where sat a girl with black hair, away from the window, facing it the light, and the dark behind eyes focused. She was thinking.
She was not alone.
A man graced her presence. For he wondered at what she was looking, the window frame partially framed her silhouette.
The daylight was clear.
"Hakon," said the gentleman, "modeling for me?"
"Just us girls. Mercenaries," said Hakon, "I'm done thinking. I'm a spiritual man. A religious man. That's just how it is."
"You're not a Christian. You don't have to say it like that. It sounds so poor."
"Well how else am I supposed to say it?"
"Can mercenaries be religious?"
"You bet they can."
"Then say you are a mercenary. Or a religious woman. Let your gay design."
"Gay religions. The Christianna is one."
"I'll never really understand your religion, Hakon."
They were a cute couple. They shared gender fluidity. They argued with each other, not in a vehement way but in a logical, academic way. All the time. It was a relationship of improving each other. Hakon, with his smarmy feminine superiority acted the mate to an Alejandro, who was giving and kind. They balanced each other in this way, for their love was playful, spontaneous, and sophisticated. Primal. Soft. Exquisite.
Hakon remembered first meeting him online before they went out on a date. They met at a library, which had a coffee shop inside. They instantly liked each other as they ordered their coffee together because Hakon could see he was gentle and it was the sophistication to suspect that he had noticed by the other party. Chemistry.
It took time for Hakon to realize his advantage, partnering with a man like this. He needed a solid relationship foundation to make all of the other clowns in the clown engine come out. For a rainbow cause.
Remember, clowns are sacred to me.
They had seen one, at a traveling circus.
And we talk of gay religions.
An elephant axolotl style with a fuzzy wuzzy hairdo.
A trapeze artist.
Nothing was better than the clown.
He or she had a green mop, a leather studded jacket, of black pants, chains around the neck, and the dullest metallic clown nose. Makeup was black and white. That paradoxically reflected so much light that it shone in the dark carnival theatre under the spotlight moreso than his or her clothing. Dancing, music played. He unveiled a large tribal industrial sculpture made of shiny metal to contrast his dull one. It had eyes of green LED and a fierce disposition such as would a bull charging. It was not recognizably any known species however.
"This is my friend," said the clown.
"My name is Ginger," it said.
"I'm going to make you an honorary clown Ginger," he replied. He removed a stepstool from a hidden place, for he needed it to climb high enough to put the clown nose on Ginger's head. He put it next to Ginger. He pulled a clown nose from a bag of props. And proceeded to put the nose on Ginger's face, where it should be. Though her face was downturned very low to the ground, and so he had to bend at the middle to put it on her.
Once it was there, and it was obvious to everybody, Ginger noticeably perked up.
The clown with the dull nose put his stepstool away into the hidden place.
"I AM THE MACHINE CLOWN," said Ginger.
It made both of them laugh. They returned from remembering this performance, giggling Hakon laying in his lap. His boyfriend touched his chest, applying pressure to it in a relaxing sort of way. They put on a movie that they had seen before and talked during the whole viewing.
"Let's go on a vacation," said Hakon.
"Okay. Where to?"
"Let's start right now."
"Sounds good."
"Let's go to a loft," she said, "where we can share our love all day."
"We are already in one!"
"Yes. I know. Let's go there."
"We are here, ya crazy."
"I know."
"I know too."
They went outside for a walk, and held hands under the trees. We will have a feast tonight. Dine like the gods. And make our art for each other. Vacation full time. Too lazy even, to get to an airport. It is slipping away already. What are you going to do?
His dream suitors gentlemen, who were various and all over the place inviting them into the narrative he was constructing, blue formulae for that's how I built love constructed, was one in the studio.
They were not abused by a fountain of intruders both psychic and creepy. He had a New Reciprocity for this purpose, with which he commanded with his brain that they be what they are.
You are not intruders,
You are vampires.
And I am always distracted by my own thoughts.
For you have frightened me to see worse than vampires.
I have my toys and I have my art.
I am in heaven, to know so many good men.
The first one protects me carefully. As carefully as I protect him.
This is just the start of it. As far as I can get, probably.
One clown in the clown machine.
Or have I already gotten that far.
There was serenity between them.
Five clowns is a fairy with an extra wing. As you know, adult fairies have four wings, the children having two wings, and so a five-winged fairy would be very special. Perhaps extra-creative.
The first had already started. My Alejandro.
The second was blue in personality, like me, and we shared that quality together.
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