Netslum Gay Chat

The day before the Reverend Davis and the landlord of the trailer park came to their decision, Simon had revealed he had strange powers that, according to Davis, were not God-given. It was the Devil’s work. Simon had had these powers since he was little. His mother, Mary, who also lived in the trailer park, accepted and loved him no matter what. His father, as far as Simon knew, was a rapist who had raped his mother long ago.

Simon had no control of what happened the day before the judgment. A group of homeless men came by the trailer park on their way to another town. They were hungry and thirsty. Simon saw this and approached them with a smile. “How can I help you, gentlemen?” One of the homeless men replied:

“We are awfu’ly hungry, sir.” Simon knew he didn’t have enough food for these men so he decided to use his gift, though, to some, it was a curse.

“Now, if I give you food and drink, you all should not tell anyone how I did it. Okay?” Simon replied. All the men nodded and looked on intently. Simon closed his eyes and held out his rough blistered hands that were a value to him in his woodwork. He concentrated hard and long. After a minute or so of concentrating, three bags of Wonder Bread and a plate of cooked steaks lay at his feet along with a few packs of beer. The men all gasped and looked at Simon as he opened his eyes and peered down at the refreshments he created from nothing but mind.

The men did not question this ability but plowed into the food. Little to Simon’s knowledge, his friend Joe was watching out of his trailer window. Joe knew that the landlord and the Reverend did not approve of such things and had kicked out a tenant for supposedly practicing witchcraft.

The so-called friend went to the landlord after the homeless men had said their thank yous and goodbyes and Simon had gone back inside his trailer. He knocked on the door of Eric Mitchell. He got a reply from behind the door. “Who the hell is it?” Eric opened the door with force and looked upon Joe in indifference. “Whuddya want, Joe?”

Joe looked up at the landlord and whispered, “I know someone who is practicing magic in the trailer park.” Eric’s eyes opened wide.

“Again?! Holy hell! Who is it?”

Joe thought to himself for a second before Eric shook him. “I can’t tell you. I can’t do it.”

“How much dough you want if you tell me?” Eric whispered. Joe shook his head. “Well, do you want to live here or not, Joe? I can arrange for you to be kicked out.” Joe looked up with concern in his eyes.

“Okay, watch me. Whoever’s door I knock on is who does it,” Joe replied in disgust at himself. Eric nodded and crossed his arms as Joe went over to Simon’s house and knocked upon the door.