The Fragrance a Violet Sheds and other short stories

By Michael Victor

In The Fragrance a Violet Sheds and other short stories, Michael Victor gives his readers a glimpse of what it’s like to be different in America. Enter the four stories of young gay love, heroism, homophobia, and friendships and explore the hardships of being different in a not so friendly world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gatekeeper Press
• Release date: Oct 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662917288

Book preview

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events in this book are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

The views and opinions expressed in this book are solely those of the author and do not reflect the views or opinions of Gatekeeper Press. Gatekeeper Press is not to be held responsible for and expressly disclaims responsibility of the content herein.

The Fragrance a Violet Sheds and other short stories

Published by Gatekeeper Press

2167 Stringtown Rd, Suite 109

Columbus, OH 43123-2989

www.GatekeeperPress.com

Copyright © 2021 by Michael Victor

All rights reserved. Neither this book, nor any parts within it may be sold or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021943121

ISBN (hardcover): 9781662917264

ISBN (paperback): 9781662917271

eISBN: 9781662917288

For Matix and Myles

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Bloody Mary

Checkmate

The Time Travelers

"Forgiveness is the fragrance

the violet sheds upon the heel

that has crushed it."

-Mark Twain

Chapter 1

Staring outside the dirty kitchen window while washing the dishes, David glanced at his father chopping firewood in the backyard. His father Dean, a tall and stocky middle-aged man, was relentless in chopping all he could that day. A sigh exited out of David’s mouth, and he didn’t notice that the murky dishwater suddenly had a tint of red from his own blood. He had accidentally nicked himself with a knife. He lifted his left hand from the water and sucked the blood