Flashbulb Notecard sent September 2005 to Koncupiscence, who asked for something with Orlando. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Billy!” He was blindsided by the hug — full-framed, crushing, lifting him nearly off his feet before he put voice to body. He squeezed back just as tightly, feeling his face split into a smile. “Orlando.” Orli drew back and brushed a black curl from his forehead. “God, Bill, how long has it been?” “Too long.” Billy reached out to smooth Orlando’s now-disheveled jacket, listening to the flashbulbs pop around them. Orlando’s smile changed; his brow crinkled and his dark eyes began to blink faster. He brushed one thumb across the lines around Billy’s right eye and swallowed. “I’ve missed you,” he said. Still so young, thought Billy. He drew Orlando’s hand away and laughed; Orlando shook himself and smiled again, as he always did. “Plenty of time to catch up,” said Billy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ back