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    Superpride
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Once Upon a Time - 7. So they returned what was stolen to its original owner.

Clinking their wine glasses together, James and his art professor smiled and took a sip of their wine that was the most delicious thing he had tasted in a long while. He was standing in an art gallery that was featuring artwork and was already getting the attention of very wealthy and influential people from the city, and all artwork belonged to him. Just the very idea of his art being showcased for the rich and powerful to view and digest made him very giddy. Also, the knowledge that this was going to be another success night with most his artwork being sold for tens of thousands of dollars did more for his high than any alcoholic drink or experimental drug could do.

“This is going to be another great night, isn’t it, James?” his professor said as he drank his wine.

“It will, and it’s all thanks to you for teaching me, Professor,” James complimented.

“Oh, stop that. I just provided the tools for you to create these masterpieces that all, dare I say, even surpass the Renaissance painters like Davinci and Michelangelo.”

James blushed from his professor’s appreciation towards him and his artwork, and he could not deny that the level of detail he put into his art pieces, taking many hours to accomplish, made his work unique to many people. They were often mistaken for photography, and sometimes James had to prove that his art was indeed created with just paint and not with the modern technology of cameras. He took it as more of a compliment that he could paint something so realistic that it caused people to doubt that any human could paint something like that. And he did not use any live models for his artwork; his own secret that he decided to keep to himself since his talent of painting things right out of his mind felt special and only for him to know.

As expected, most of his paintings were sold on the spot by people who all complimented him on his talent for painting. With every painting that was sold and soon to be in someone’s possession, the night made James feel even lighter with joy. His masterpieces were going to be appreciated by the people in this small art gallery and was delight by itself. It outweighed having to let go of his own works that he spent many hours painting. These people would also spread the word about his paintings, and this would no doubt make him a very busy man as he continued to paint his heart out for more of these people in the future.

“How do you feel, James?” his professor said as he carried a bottle of the remaining wine in his hand.

“What do you think? I feel beyond amazing. Who would’ve thought that me, me, would have this much success by just painting what I love?” James said as he accepted another glass of wine from his professor and friend.

“And it looks your final painting is going to get sold as well,” his professor said, nodding to a gentleman who looking at the last, unsold painting at the corner of the art gallery.

Smiling, James walked to the man who looked different from the rest of the people at the art gallery, judging mostly by his suit that was wrinkled and looked secondhand. His hair was ruffled versus the gelled and combed look the rest of the men sported, and his face was scruffy, making him look totally out of place from the clean-shaven men. Despite his odd appearance, the man was both tall and wide, probably hiding plenty of muscle underneath his suit and was the kind of man that James preferred above all else. This preference must have come from his rural, Southern roots that contrasted greatly with the urban, East Coast life of New York City.

“Hello, sir. Are you interested in that painting there?” James asked as he stood by the man.

“Yes. Yes, I am. I see it’s a boy underwater with a silhouette of a person facing their back toward him while standing on a dock. Can you explain the meaning behind this if you don’t mind?” the man asked as he scratched his scruffy chin.

“Sure. It’s basically a boy drowning, drowning by all the expectations he has to live up to. And he’s reaching for someone who has turned his back toward him, both metaphorically and literally. And that person happens to be his father. It’s one of my first painting I ever made for the public to see, and has yet to interest anyone, considering the dark theme of the painting. But it seems that it has captured your attention,” James said as he took the final sip of his wine.

“Yes, it has. The details in this painting are so photo realistic, all your paintings are. However, this one has a rawer reality to it versus your other paintings that all have some sort of fantastical look to them… Does this painting draw from a real-life experience if you don’t me asking?” the man asked.

“It does, actually. My father and I never got along since he always wanted me to be his macho son who did sports and other stuff like that,” James said as he flexed his muscles in an exaggerated manner. “And it didn’t help that I was the only boy out of three older sisters, so my father really put pressure on me to be this idealized version of what he believed a son should be. And that didn’t include his son painting… I was drowning from all of his expectations for me; he had my whole life planned and when I told him I was going to art instead of using my football scholarship…you can also say he turned his back on me… Sorry, I didn’t mean to divulge all of that to you.”

“No, it’s fine. It definitely gives more meaning and significance to this specific painting… And your name is James, right?”

“That’s right. James Atwood. Your name is…”

“My name is James too, but you can just call me Jimmy.”

James shook Jimmy’s hand and smiled. However, as he looked at the man who seemed familiar for some reason something registered in his head. He then recalled his high school years and the boy who was in his football team that James’s father coached himself. The memories of the boy who his father looked up to more to than his actual son, the boy who was the model of perfection, and the boy who made James’s life feel so miniscule in comparison…Jimmy.

James’s eyes widened from the realization that Jimmy himself was here at his art gallery, shaking his hand and admiring the painting that he made more of a contribution to than he probably thought. Snatching his hand and stepping back, James looked at him with a disgruntled look on his face before he turned away. He quickly walked out of the art gallery and into the outside where it was humid night.

“James! Wait!”

James felt a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately turned around a slapped that hand away. “How dare you, Jimmy? How dare you come to my art gallery and pretend you’re just this stranger asking what my painting is about!”

“I’m sorry, James. I didn’t mean to have that effect on you,” Jimmy apologized.

“Well, you did. Now get away from me!” James shouted as began walking back to the art gallery.

“James, please! Let me talk to you for just a minute!” Jimmy pleaded, placing his hand back onto James’s shoulder.

Huffing and without turning around, James said, “You have exactly one minute.”

“Okay, I can work with that… I came here to find you, James. And when I discovered you were having an art gallery at this city, I had to come. James…something has happened to your father and I need you to come to our hometown to help him.”

Shaking his head, James turned around and said, “And why exactly should I care, Jimmy boy? My father practically disowned me when I decided to go to art school and not live the life that he planned out for me since birth. He literally cut all communication with me and made sure my mom couldn’t send any money to help me out. I was living in a motel and working two jobs just to support myself. And it was all because my father disapproved of my passion for the arts. Any real parent would’ve supported their child’s dreams, not disown them! Thank God my mom later divorced his ass and left him with barely anything.”

James was breathing heavily after venting about his father, and he had to admit that letting out all the pressure he had kept to himself for more than seven years felt good. “I don’t care if he wants to see me again. He lost that privilege a long time and I’m not reliving that experience ever again. So, you wasted your time coming here, Jimmy. And what we had before that final game during our senior year in high school doesn’t matter either. Now go home and stay away from me.”

Jimmy was looking down with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry you feel that way, James…and I’m sorry that I didn’t make things any better for you during our high school years.”

“I wasn’t just high school,” James stressed with his hands clenched into fists. “Even before that, my father always looked up to you as his model son, as a person that he thought I should’ve been. Worst of all was that you knew this, and you used that knowledge to bully me to the point that I thought about just ending it all!”

Jimmy stepped back, seemingly surprised by what James just admitted. “I…I didn’t think that I…”

“Of course, you didn’t. You were too busy living up to my father’s expectations. And to think that day under the bleachers when the game was over, and we kissed… I was there for you when your own father passed away from cancer, and I thought you’d be there for me when my father was disowning me…but I was wrong. And now you want me to back to the town where my nightmares happened and to help my father who caused all my internal pain? Fuck that and fuck you!”

“James…”

“No! No more! I’m going back to my art gallery, so I can close it down. Don’t ever talk to me again. Got it?”

Jimmy opened his mouth, but then closed it before nodding. “I understand, James. And I’ll go now. Just know that your father still cared about you and—”

“Just. Go.”

“Okay…I will…but take this.” Jimmy pulled out a small letter and handed it to James. “It came from your father.”

James snatched it from Jimmy before stuffing it in his coat pocket. “Okay. Now go.”

Looking back down, Jimmy slowly turned around before walking away. James sighed heavily, and he returned to the art gallery. He could not believe that Jimmy came all this way to the city to try to convince him to go back to their hick town to help his father. He did not care what exactly his father needed help with. All he knew was that he had a life now, a successful life and the knowledge that his father was not involved in his success made him even prouder of his accomplishments as an artist.

With Jimmy and his past finally put away, James helped his art professor close the art gallery down before he returned to his apartment located only five minutes away. His professor asked what happened between James and the man, but he just it was nothing since he did not have the energy to talk about it. Back home, he sat down on his couch and turned the television on to the news. It was about the same issues in the world where magic was now considered the norm, like whether animals who could talk and had human intelligence had any rights. Also, the ongoing issue of thousands of wooden puppets abandoned by their child owners and forced to live on the streets was upsetting to say the least.

As James changed the channel to something more uplifting, he felt hot and decided to take off his coat. Throwing it on the empty coffee table in front of him. He continued to watch the television, but his eyes soon drifted to the letter that was sticking out of the inside pocket of his coat. Curious, he got up and pulled out the white letter and opened it. He took out the piece of paper inside and it to reveal a small crayon drawing of himself and his father fishing. It was his drawing that he drew when he was at least five years old, and it was folded on the borders of the drawing, suggesting that it was placed in a small frame of some kind.

Emotions started to bubble inside James as he remembered the day he drew that picture and gave it to his father. His father thanked him graciously for the picture before placing it on the refrigerator with a magnet. After a week or so, the picture disappeared when the refrigerator was filled with more pictures that he drew, and later with news articles of his successes on the football field. He thought his drawings were forgotten by his father, but it seemed that at least this drawing was kept, and it caused James to feel conflicted about his father that he believed were long settled, only to resurface and cause a stir inside him.

A knock on the front door made James return from his memories and he wondered who could be knocking since it was late at night. He hoped it was not the neighbor asking where his pet cat was who often escaped onto the fire escape and went into other people’s apartments. But he would rather have the cat owner than the person that appeared in his mind next.

Getting up and looking through the peephole, he saw the person was none other than Jimmy. He sighed before unlocking and opening the door, revealing Jimmy who was standing awkwardly with his hands on his pockets of his suit from the art gallery. James had to admire the determination of the man, which was a trait of Jimmy’s that helped them win the football games during their high school years and was one of the defining qualities about him.

Looking at Jimmy with a raised eyebrow, James asked, “What do you want?”

Jimmy looked up at James and said, “Did you look at the letter I gave you?”

“Yeah…I did. I’m assuming this is supposed to show that my dad kept this, framed it in his office or some other place like that?”

“Close. He kept it in his wallet… I always wondered what he was looking at whenever he took out his wallet and just stared at it with what looked like sadness on his face.”

“How did you get this from his wallet?” James asked curiously.

Biting his lower lip, Jimmy sighed before saying, “That was the only thing I found from him when he disappeared from the swamp almost three months ago.”

James’s eyes widened and quickly asked, “What happened to him? Is he…?”

“No, he’s still alive. He’s just been lost for a long time and… Can you invite me into your home? This is going to take some time to explain.”

James was hesitant to allow his mortal enemy to step inside his abode, but he decided to let go of his past grudges for now to know more about his father’s whereabouts. So, stepping to the side, he allowed Jimmy to enter his home before closing and locking the door. He showed Jimmy to the couch and sat down as well with him at a comfort distance away. He also muted the television and waited as Jimmy made himself comfortable.

“I believe he was taken by somebody,” Jimmy said with his fingers tapping on his lap. “Do you remember the urban legend that was part of our town when you still lived there?”

James slowly nodded. “Yeah? The urban legend says that there’s a witch at the town swamp. She drowns anybody who stays there for too long, steals their souls and imprisons them for all eternity. Did I remember correctly?”

Jimmy nodded. “You’re right. However, I believe the urban legend is actually real, that a witch has taken people like your father and drowned them at the swamp to imprison their souls.”

James shook his head. “And what evidence do you have for this claim?”

“I did a lot research at the town library and found a whole series of missing person reports, most of them if not all connected to the swamp. Other than that, I don’t have any other proof, and no one else believes that a witch took your father and that I should just move on.” Jimmy breathed out harshly. “I can’t though. I’m certain your father is still alive, his soul taken by the witch. And if we don’t get him back after three months like the legend says, his soul cannot return to his body. It’s almost three months since he disappeared, and I’m scared that once the next week goes by, there’s no chance in saving him… Please, James. I need your help with saving your father.”

“What can I do? I’m just an artist living in the city for goodness sake.”

“There’s a lot you can do. The legend also says that only a clean and pure can reveal the witch’s house by blowing on the swamp water and creating a bubble where inside is her house. And the witch cannot take a soul that is clean and pure.”

“I’m far from clean and pure,” James objected with a humorless smile.

“That’s where you’re wrong, James. I talked with your art professor after you closed the art gallery. He said that you donate most of the money that you make from your paintings to schools around the country, so they can have art programs to help children to develop their art skills and creativity. If that’s not clean and pure, I don’t know what is.” Jimmy smiled.

James sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “Am I really the only one who can do this?”

Jimmy nodded. “And you’re not only going to save your father, but countless other people. And even though their bodies are long gone, at least their souls will be free… I can’t think of a better person who can accomplish this than you, James.”

James stood up from the couch and turned his back to Jimmy as he thought about what he was just told. He was still very skeptical about this whole idea of a witch kidnapping his father and imprisoning his soul for all eternity. However, when he turned back to Jimmy and saw the pleading look on his face, he somehow knew that this man was serious about rescuing his father. And though he still had animosity towards the man, James still believed in forgiveness, since he was clean and pure he guessed.

Dropping his arms to his sides, James said, “Okay…I’ll help.”

Jimmy’s face brightened. “Really?”

James nodded. “But if this is some kind of stunt by my father to just get me to come back home and scold me—”

“No, of course not! I wish it was… I-I mean, your father is actually in trouble and… I wouldn’t do that to you, James.”

The way that Jimmy was fumbling with his words made James smile a little, thinking it was cute the former captain of their football team was acting so nervous right then. That was not a trait he displayed to anybody…except to James when they first kissed each other…and then proceeded to do other naughty things from under the bleachers. He remembered how nervous Jimmy was about getting caught, which was the opposite of James who got a thrill from the danger. He then remembered sleeping with Jimmy’s in his arms and believed that everything would be all right. If only that stayed true.

“So…when do we plan on doing this?” James asked.

“Tomorrow is preferable…unless you have something planned.”

“No, nothing… So…would you like a glass of water?” James asked awkwardly.

“No, that’s okay. I should be going now, actually. I’ll pick you at around seven in the morning and we’ll drive the one-hour route to the town swamp,” Jimmy said as he stood back up.

“Okay… What place are you staying at if you don’t mind me asking?”

Jimmy scratched his head in a distressing manner. “Not anywhere in particular…just my car, actually.”

“Really? You didn’t even rent a motel?” James asked with surprise.

“All I could afford was the gas to get to this city, and…” Jimmy sighed heavily. “It’s basically my home, James. Without my car, I’m homeless. After I got my knee injured during a college football game, I lost my scholarship, later had to dropped out from college and could barely do anything intensively with my knee other than be a cashier at the local supermarket… I occasionally stay at a friend’s house, but other than that I just live in my car. And before you say anything, I didn’t come here to ask for any favors or handouts. I did this to myself and I have to live with the consequences.”

James, astonished by what he was just told about Jimmy’s recent life, still could not help but feel sorry for the man. He looked so defeated, so helpless, like he was on the verge of giving up on his life like James was back then. Despite his broad frame and tall height, he looked more like a puppy who had lost hope of ever being adopted, to be worth something and live a happy life. James felt like that once, and he would never wish that feeling on anybody…including Jimmy.

“Well, I guess I should be going now,” Jimmy announced as he began his trek to the front door with a clear limp in his walk.

“Wait, Jimmy. Just stay at my place for tonight,” James offered, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“No, James. I—”

“This is not up for debate. Stay here tonight, Jimmy. I have a spare room with a bed that you can sleep on.”

Looking down, Jimmy then said, “God… If you insist… Just know that I didn’t mean to tell you that story so you can pity me.”

“I don’t feel pity for you, Jimmy. I just want to help someone who is down on their luck, is all.

Jimmy nodded. “Okay, I got it… Thank you, James.”

James patted Jimmy on the shoulder. “No problem.”

Jimmy left the apartment and came back with a backpack filled with night clothes and bathroom supplies, which he used to get ready for bed. James also got ready by taking a quick shower, brushing his teeth and changing into just a shirt and boxers. After that, he turned off all the lights in his apartment and went to his bedroom where he read a novel before falling asleep.

***

It was close to three in the morning when James woke up with a parched mouth. So, getting up from his bed, he walked groggily to the kitchen where he got a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator. He drank half of the bottle before taking it with him on his way back to the bedroom. However, he stopped when he saw a figure standing at the balcony of his apartment. Judging by its frame, he knew it was Jimmy and he decided to go there to see if he was okay.

Opening the glass door, James entered the balcony area where the night air was breezy and contrasted with the humidity of street level of the city. “Hey, Jimmy. Are you okay?”

Jimmy turned his head and gave a small smile. “Hey, James. Don’t worry, I’m all right. Just admiring the skyline.”

James stood by Jimmy and then noticed that he was holding an old polaroid camera with a strap around his neck. “Oh. I didn’t know you were a photographer.”

“I’m not.” Chuckling, Jimmy then said, “But my father always loved taking pictures with this thing as a hobby when I was growing up. Then I got into the habit of taking pictures of events like the football games, so he could see them when he was in the hospital. It was the least I could do since he couldn’t come to the games himself. Now I just take pictures with this camera because I like capturing the moment that I can later look at and reflect on.”

“That’s very nice of you to do that for your father, Jimmy,” James said, patting Jimmy’s shoulder.

Jimmy just shrugged. “He’s my father, and I love him.” Placing his camera down, he leaned forward the rails and said, “James… I know this may sound pointless, but…I really am sorry for what I did to you all those years ago… For abandoning you when you needed my help the most…and here you are helping me in my time of need again… I just want to let you know that truly appreciate it.”

James smiled. “You’re welcome, Jimmy… I’m assuming you don’t show this side of you just to anybody.”

Jimmy chuckled. “Not really. You seem to be the only person I can confide my true self to. Not even your father could provide that… And James?”

James turned his head to face Jimmy. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to sound creepy, but…I really wished we could’ve done more with each other like we did back then at the bleachers and captured it on my camera.”

“Oh, really?” James smiled. “Is that an invitation?”

Jimmy quickly shook his head. “No, no! I wasn’t implying that… I mean, only if you want to... What I’m trying to say is that…I wish things could’ve been different and that we could’ve explored more of what he had with each other and…”

Jimmy was blushing heavily, and James chuckled at that before he said, “Yeah…me too.”

Looking up at James in surprise, Jimmy then stepped closer to him. “Time has really done you a favor, you know if you don’t mind me saying.”

James bit his lower lip. “You too. The scruffy look really suits you.”

Their faces inching closer with warm breaths felt on their skin, Jimmy uttered, “Should we be doing this?”

James brushed his lips on Jimmy’s lips. “The real question should be…why not?”

Jimmy gasped, and James leaned his face forward one more inch before their lips locked. They were soon making out and the memories of their first kiss came colliding back into James’s head. However, he shoved them away since he wanted to experience what was happening now as he pulled on Jimmy’s hair to deepen their kiss that caused Jimmy to whimper in response. So, one could say that what happened back then was in the past and they were finally looking into what could be the future. And that involved taking their cocks in each other’s hands, stroking their thick lengths until they both yelled into the night. Their orgasms caused both to see stars brighter than the ones in the sky and they both knew that something reignited between them t hat would die out any time soon.

***

James heard his name being called and he yawned before he opened his eyes. He was in Jimmy’s truck and he looked through the passenger’s side window to see the swamp, a place of happier times where he used to fish there as a child with his father. And beyond the swamp was a mountain and beyond the mountain was a blue, cloudless sky that was empty of chemtrails. It was simply beautiful.

“We’re here, James,” Jimmy said as he got out of the truck.

James did the same and as they both approached the muddy shore of the swamp water, he felt a weird, bubbly sensation inside his body. He did not know where it was coming from, but he thought it was the swamp itself causing this feeling and he believed that there was something enchanted about the place.

“So…what should I do now?” James asked.

“You just have to blow,” Jimmy replied.

“I already did plenty of that this morning.” James winked, causing Jimmy to blush. He then crouched down and looked closely at the murky water before cupping the water into his hands. “Well, let’s see if that works.”

Bringing the water close to his mouth, James gently blew on the water. Out of nowhere, bubbles appeared, and when he blew more air onto the water more bubbles formed to the point that it looked the suds of a bubble bath. The water below the bubbles looked so clear, like the bubbles were from a sort of soap that cleansed the water of all impurities.

“That’s amazing,” James said, releasing the bubbly water back onto the swamp.

Suddenly, the bubbles began to spread throughout the swamp water like it was wide ripple caused by a single stone. James slowly stood up and Jimmy was by his side as they watched one huge bubble begin to form. It continued to grow until it was the size of a small house. Then it shook before popping and revealing an actual small house that looked like a sand castle made by a child at the beach. It floated on the water like a boat, and it moved towards the shore and right in front of the two men.

James took a step back, not knowing what was coming next. Jimmy had the same feeling as he held onto James’s hand as the door slowly opened. A figure stepped out, and James’s eyes widened when he saw who appeared to be a young boy at the door’s threshold. He was biting his thumb, looking shyly at both him and Jimmy as he walked onto the shore with his bare feet. James was skeptical about whether this boy was just a disguise to trick them into being two more of the witch’s victims.

But looking more closely, James thought the boy looked so much like him when he was a child and then the boy said, “James…is that you, my son?”

James fell backwards onto the muddy ground, stunned. “Wait! No way! Dad?”

The boy nodded. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this…but when you cleansed the swamp, you reverted me back to the age I was most pure…and clean.”

“Sir?” Jimmy said.

“And thank you for bringing my son back here, Jimmy. I truly consider you as my second son,” the boy, James’s father said with kindness. “However, I never treated James as a son of mine, and that I truly, truly regret.”

“Dad…what is all this?” James asked.

“It has to do with this very swamp. I was fishing here almost three months ago when I felt something tug on my fishing line, and before I knew it I was pulled into the water where I was imprisoned by an unknown force. I was imprisoned in that house with many other stolen souls, and like them I reflected on my past actions, including the ones involving you, James.”

James looked past his father to see several other children standing by the door. “And now all of you are children?”

“You purified all of us, James. You cleansed our souls of all the sins we’ve committed as adults and…I’d like to thank you before we go.”

“Wait! You’re not coming back?” James said with shock.

“I can’t, James. Even though I’ve reverted to a child, I’m the oldest among all these young souls and I must lead them to wherever we are going to beyond this swamp.” Stepping close to James, his father wrapped his small arms around his waist and hugged his son lovingly. “I love you, James, and I’ll use what I have experienced to guide these souls, to love them like what I should’ve done with you all along.”

James sobbed as he hugged his father. “I love you too, Dad.”

“And Jimmy?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Please, take care of my son like he had done for you, okay? I love you too, Jimmy, and I wish the both of you the best.” James’s father then hugged Jimmy who teared up and embraced him.

“Thank you. And I will,” Jimmy said, looking at James with affection.

Letting go, James’s father slowly stepped back and waved his hand goodbye. He then started to float, a bubble encasing his entire, small body before he turned into the reflection of the bubble. The bubble floated back into the house with the other children, and the house moved towards a huge whirlpool that formed a short distance away that consumed the house within seconds like a drain.

With the house gone, the whirlpool then disappeared, and the water was calm again. It was so crystal clear now that it reflected the image of the distant mountain perfectly like a mirror. And when James looked up, he saw the bubbles of his father and all the children coming out of the peak of the mountain and into the sky above. They were finally free.

James wiped a tear from his eye as he continued to watch the beautiful scene, Jimmy right behind him and watching the scene as well with his strong arms wrapped around his waist and his chin resting on James’s shoulder. The place had a light, lovely scent as well, like the scent of soap made of the natural aromas of nature itself.

And during that moment, Jimmy took out his camera and took a single picture of the scene, and when the polaroid photo came out, he quickly tapped James on the shoulder and said, “James…you have to look at this.”

Turning around, James looked at the polaroid photo and saw that it was a picture of him and his father together at the swamp. It was the photographic version of the drawing that he made and that his father kept in his wallet. It had them standing together, and when Jimmy turned it around, the back simply said, “I wish you the best.”

James smiled widely at Jimmy, tears coming down his face that he did not wipe away this time. Jimmy smiled back and handed the photo to James who held it close to his heart. They then hugged once again and kissed as the morning sun shined on them.

So they returned what was stolen to its original owner; the swamp not returning James’s father back to him, but something much better. James’s father was now not the owner, but a loving father to the children he would now guide and love like a parent should always do.

After that moment that was forever captured within both men’s eyes, James returned to the city to continue with his painting career, and Jimmy came along with him after a lot of determination from James himself. And Jimmy decided to pursue his hobby of photography as a career, so that he could take of James just like he did for Jimmy.

The photo of James and his father at the swamp was framed and placed on the wall in the living room beside the original drawing that held just as much sentiment. And like the refrigerator door filled with James’s drawings, it too was filled with creations of James and Jimmy, giving new life to their home. They were truly living for the best, and James wished his father the best as well from wherever he was now.

Story Cards: Drowning (Event), Swamp (Place), Long-Lost (Aspect), Stolen (Aspect), Imprisoned (Event), Mountain (Place)
Copyright © 2018 Superpride; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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