i have been told many times by family, friends, colleagues and strangers that I, a black African Muslim lesbian, am not included in this vision; that my dreams are a reflection of my upbringing in a decadent, amoral Western society that has corrupted who I really am. But who am I, really? Am I allowed to speak for myself or must my desires form the battleground for causes I do not care about? My answer to that is simple: ‘no one allows anyone anything.’ By rejecting that notion you discover that only you can give yourself permission on how to lead your life, naysayers be damned. In the end something gives way. The earth doesn’t move but something shifts. That shift is change and change is the layman’s lingo for that elusive state that lovers, dreamers, prophets and politicians call ‘freedom’.
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I’m wondering how long I have to deal with this bullshit before I can brief my troops. Oh, and I gotta feed my goldfish. Let’s get this straight, Blondie—”
“Blondie?”
“That’s an insult, not a pet name.
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Shock? More like shellshock at this point. Blondie knew I was gay, yet he was a Company Exec or else he wouldn’t be here. I was his butt boy in the worst possible way.
When I squinted at him, he gave nothing up. Neither did I. I had shit on this newly minted man too.
Double fucking jeopardy, jackass.
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I put my hand next to his shoulder on the door frame, not touching, but real close. “Look, Blondie. I’m not asking you to bottom, just to fucking navigate.
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It doesn’t matter where I am, or who I’m with . . . God, Caspar. I’ve dreamed about being with you.
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My latest battle had nothing to do with The Company, the rebels, or any other faction. It was out-and-out warfare between my head and my heart. Keeping it cool during daylight, versus nighttime, when I unleashed my passion for him. ... Turned out the Wilderness was a lot more hostile than me.
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You’re an assignment, not an assignation. Soon as I get your pretty boy ass through the Wilderness and deliver you to the Outpost, you’re no more than a stain to spit-shine off my boots.
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So damn pigheaded. I’ve studied you, not to report you, Caspar, but because I want a relationship with you.
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For the first time I had the best of both worlds--a mission to live for and a man to love.
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