Sweat was never like this. It was a maligned representative of Dean’s sedentary life, birthed by his teenage habits. Sweat was dirty. Sweat was uncomfortable. Sweat had never been this.This is a 100 word short story I have written for the book I am working on The Future of Life and Death
Sweat would never highlight special moments such as it did now.
Dean looked over the figure lying naked, with and like him. Sweat was sliding, mingling and shifting between he and his partner, his partner and he. Sweat was not uncomfortable now. It was not the product of an unclean exertion. Sweat was the emblem of something worth that effort. Total acceptance partnered with an exposure of a naked self.