LGBT Stories

The school marm let us out early today. It’s been a very warm spring. I am going to the swimming hole today. I’m hoping that Will and Jake will be there too. They don’t tease me for being too young like the other boys do. Jake is near 16 and Will just turned 15 this past april. I am the youngest boy in our school, but there’s lots of girls younger than me. I’m only 12 and won’t be 13 until September. All the other boys at our school are between 14 and 16, except for Tom, and he’s near 18, and the oldest girl is only 12.

Will has been teaching me to swim. He said that his pa taught him how when he was younger than me. He said that they was out fishin’ and his pa picked him up and threw him out into the river and yelled “swim boy, swim!” Will said that he floundered around a bit, at first, but he soon figured that if he didn’t swim, he was gonna’ drown, so he started kicking and paddeling and began to swim. He’s being a lot more patient with me than his pa was with him. Jake don’t swim much, he mostly just wades out till the water starts to lap at his balls, and then he dips down into the water and then gets out and lays on the grass to sun. But Will likes to swim. I think he would be a fish if he could. He loves to be in the water.

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Joe was sixteen now, which meant that he would have to leave his family soon.
His parents farm was being slowly reclaimed by nature since the rains had
decreased, making the land unproductive for growing. There simply was not
enough food for all five children plus two adults. Joe believed that his entire
family should move on now, but that was their choice. He knew his time was
coming up.
He had thought about his next step and decided to join up with any cattle
drive that would take him. He was a good with a rope, and a natural in the
saddle. He just had to convince the cattle bosses that he was cut out to be a
cowboy on the long drives from Mexico to the rail heads in the mid-west. He
hoped that after the drive he could sign on as a ranch hand somewhere, and his
destiny would be complete.

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It is 10,000 B.C.E., somewhere in Europe. The red cave tribe huddle about their fires, trying to keep warm. The temperature in the smoky cave is only about 40 degrees F, but outside it is much colder; a cutting wind blows through the valley off the polar icecap.

It has been many days since the last hunt, and the tribe’s food, pieces of a mammoth that had frozen to death, are nearly gone. Some of the women are boiling bones now, placing hot stones, snow and bones in leather pouches. Some members of the tribe are sick. All are hungry, and their eyes glance hopefully at the cave opening, hoping the storm will break so the men can hunt again.
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