FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Easter eggs

The front window dropped, Ed carelessly slipped his elbow through the gaping aperture, taking on the frame of the door to stay steady while driving at a moderate pace on the wet road. He lent little attention to the urban landscape that surrounded him. He had left his neighborhood made up of cheap houses and was now rolling on a better, stronger-quality asphalt to withstand heavy weights that served the industrial area. It was not the most touristic or pleasant place with its landscape of half of them closed plants and for the smell of various chemicals that stagnated in the vicinity. But it was the most direct route to join the Northern neighborhoods where he worked for five years now. The car radio played some pop tune, but Ed could hear only snatches, the wind was re-entering in his vehicle hiding most of the notes. He could have elevated the volume, but the music was only a background sound. He did not cared about what was programmed, the chopped sound helped him to stay awake at this morning.

On his right, the sun began to appear, chasing the last traces of the night. It was always difficult for him to resume the normal rhythm of his service after the holidays. He envied a little Mark and the two boys who were now occupying their home. They were going to have two more hours of sleep while he was working. In exchange, he would be slouching on the couch when they would continue to trim. This idea comforted him a little while leaving the road and borrowing the path that led to the lower building of brown bricks struck by a red cross.

The venerable hospital had to have nearly a hundred years. Which, according to American historical norms, made it an antique. Ed had worked before emigrating into new buildings, but he had carried out his training courses in building blocks that were more than three hundred years old, with all the modern technology.

None of this here, though. The brown bricks stood on three floors and the sun was beginning to reflect on some panes while Ed passed a card in front of the reader, allowing the barrier to rise and give him access to the staff's car park. The nearest squares were almost empty, but Ed drove to the locations without white-painted names on the ground. Out of question to irritate one of the doctors to whom these seats were reserved by forcing them to make ten more yards to park and take his service.

Ed turned off the engine, opened the door, closed the window and closed his vehicle, a bag filled with clothes in hand.

The fresh air gave him the whip he hoped before entering the main gate. A quick glance brought to the reception tells him that nothing has changed since the last two weeks. Always this dear old Jerry, to whom he threw a vigorous sign of the hand in a salute before taking the elevator that was going to carry him on the top floor. The old silver Gorilla returned his gesture before returning to concentrate on his paperwork. The reception room was empty, sign that the night had been calm.

It didn't surprise Ed, who knew that only Saturday and Sunday mornings were moments of intense activity in emergencies. A Monday, there was little risk of seeing the entrance occupied by a crowd of patients who came to treat the consequences of the previous evening.

The elevator door opened once the desired floor was reached. The strong smell of phenol, which his system had eliminated during his vacation, impregnated him again the nostrils, which made him grimace somewhat. It was irrelevant, just one of the usual smells to which he wouldn't even be careful in an hour.

Ed moved his imposing body in the direction of the gate giving access to the staff room. Before even opening the latter, he knew that he would see the old sofa, the coffee table with its espresso machine, with luck, a tray topped with donuts or other pastries and if not a tray filled with crumbs. The morning time did not allow him to meet the slightest patient, all of whom were still asleep. From the night team, there was only the two oldest nurses, real caretakers of the temple, prescriptions and lingerie. Ed was wondering sometimes if they hadn't taken their service at the same time as the inauguration of the hospital. The both grey and rigid donkeys were not young anymore, but the Grady twins knew more about everyone, patients as doctors and nurses as the NSA on Snowden, Ed was convinced.

Both women were busy bending towels when Ed entered and greeted them.

« Hello ladies. As I can see, the building hasn't collapsed in my absence ? »

Ed headed to the gray metal traps that dressed a whole piece of the wall. He opened his own and began to store the clean clothes he had just brought in his bag.

« Nearly ! The service is always painful when we lack muscles to use like yours, our poor old carcasses no longer allow us to splurge, unfortunately. »

Ed smiled by lifting his arms, removing his polo shirt and staying naked torso a moment before he put on and button his blue blouse. He knew the Grady sisters weren't missing this moment for anything in the world. He never denied to show them what they would never be entitled to. His wide and muscular back.

« I will never know what is most painful. Accompany our most fragile patients or fill their insurance policies. »

Melissa, who stood at the left of Nani, nodded. Ed, turning his head, smiled at the two sisters covered with a gray fur, marking their age that began to become venerable. When one spoke, the other expressed her agreement or disagreement in this way. It never failed. It was always impressive to see how complementary these twins were, and fusional with each other.

« Do not make me pray, ladies, I have a little time before me, let me know about all the gossips that ran during my absence ! »

Ed kept a big smile. Soon the other nurses would arrive in turn to take their services and the room would be filled with an informing noise. He liked to take advantage of this time of tranquillity to increase his knowledge of the turpitudes of the other members of the service.

Melissa seized a tray filled with gauze boxes and began wearing it to a storage cabinet.

« There's not much new, you know. Little Lydia, Dr. Baleos's secretary, is pregnant. And no way to get her to say the father's name.

• It's not me, anyway !

• We imagine it. »

Ed felt a thrill to wade through his spine. It was always so when the two sisters answered at the same time as they just did. There was a gloomy echo in their combined voices. They would have been perfect for shooting in a horror movie. Anyway, if one day the Grady sisters were going to ask him if he wanted to play with them forever, he would take his legs on his neck.

« I imagine that our pediatrician friend soaked his pen in the ink that doesn't belong to him.

• We're not the ones that say it. »

Ed, once again, shivered.

« What else, if not ? Don't tell me that's the only news of the service !

• The activity was very small, you know, Ed. The holidays are not the best time for new loves. Anyway, to find out. »

Ed nodded, heading towards the plateau, wearing his regulatory outfit and seizing a chocolate-dripping donut before wearing it in the mouth.

« And your husband, big rude bear ?

• Mmm nothing to report. The holidays went well. No car breaks, no scam at the hotel and no one to shot us.

• The service got your card, by the way. The Canadian Rockies seem much more beautiful than the Denver area !

• I'm not surprised. Less concrete, less cars. That makes the difference. Kids were complaining about not having a better WiFi, especially Francis, but it feels good to disconnect for a moment.

• Poor Francis. Any news from the father ?

• Not really. He's still in preventive custody, his trial must take place in the coming weeks. The only good news for him is that he will be judged for complicity. He's not liable to finish his days on the Chair. »

The Grady sisters bobbed their heads as a sign of assent while Ed chewed his donut, his buttocks nonchalantly pressed against the table.

« He has no worries in any case, the social services have countersigned the witch's order, so we have the official guardianship. And he will soon be old enough to fly by his own wings. »

The door opened to allow a young black panther, all dressed in white, a stethoscope around the neck. Her slender and youthful body contrasted with the senility of the sisters ' body and the strenght of the bear.

« Well, I see that we are in full action ! Hello, Ed! Hello, Girls!

• Hello, doctor. »

The new entrant known in turn the thrill given by the twin answer. She tried to keep her capacity, smiling to the three nurses, using a large cup of black coffee.

« What news of the night, ladies ?

• Nothing special, Doctor. Mr. Barlow had a nightmare, but he quickly sleep without problems. Ms. Irvine had some dorazépram at three for her pain, nothing else. »

The young doctor kept her eyes closed while drinking her coffee while Ed ended his donut. As if she did not interest anything, she recorded all the information given by her staff.

« Nothing else ?

• No doctor. Ah, you must countersign the little Hazel exit papers. »

Ed raised his head, surprised.

« Harmony leaves ? But I thought she had a cure for more than three months ? »

Doctor Pessoa get down her mug, while the sisters had a darker face.

« It is true that you have just returned, and that you do not have the latest information. We let her out because we can no longer do anything for her unfortunately. Her last two injections and rays have not allowed to halt the tumors progression. »

Ed's mood darkened. He had a piece of donut in his mouth, and he tried to swallow it, but his throat was too tight. This last bite left a bitter taste on the bear tongue, which understood what it meant. The doctor understood the sorrow that invaded the nurse.

« Her parents are going to pick her up this morning around eleven o'clock. Make sure she won't have forgotten anything in her suitcase. I understand that they were leaving today for Brazil.

• I see. How much do you think she has ? »

The Panther shrugged the shoulders.

« Three months. Four, maybe. Better for her to go outside to make beautiful memories. »

Ed agreed with the doctor. When nothing could save you, it was better to spend its last moments doing what we had always dreamed of doing rather than agonizing on a bed.

« I will make sure nothing misses.

• Thank you, Ed. »

The bear came out of the room, the head low, making a gesture of the hand to thank his partners. He liked to work in the hospital, but his services in Oncology still left him a dirty impression, even more when the death was about to hit a barely 10-year-old girl. He hardly noticed the fast pace of the panther that walked on his side on the laminated floor. Ed slowed down a bit and put a interrogative look at the doctor.

« You're going to be okay ? »

Evora Pessoa spoke with a calm and concerned voice. Ed loved this woman very much because she had not sacrificed her selflessness or empathy on the altar of her career. If she remained professional with her patients, she was wearing interest to her subordinates.

« I just need time to be used at that though. You know how much I can be sensitive sometimes. »

Evora smiles a little.

« I never forgot this day when you shook up like a coconut palm this paramedic idiot who believed he could leave with half of our supplies in the pockets. Nor that day you spent holding the hand of that poor lady ... What was her name, already ?

• Carlyle.

• Carlyle, yes.

• She had spent the last forty years of her life alone. I could devote myself to her last hours. Even if I made myself copiously yelled at by the direction then.

• They were right to do it. And wrong, too. In our service, more than anything else, we are in the front line of death. And that bitch still wins too much to my taste.

• I know. Besides, I wanted to ask you something ...

• What are you talking about ? »

Evora was wondering what Ed could want. He was not known to ask for arrangements for his own account.

« Would it be possible for me to do overtime ? I know it's not the hospital's policy, but it would make me feel better. »

The doctor blinked her eyes, a little surprised.

« I don't know. I do not have the schedule of everyone in mind and I must anyway have the downstream of the hierarchy because of the additional costs that this generates. Do you have any money problems ?

• This may happen, yes. Mark and I are making our lives well, but the arrivals of Greg and Francis have completely exploded the budget. We had savings, but we must had to use some to make some works in the house. »

Evora granted.

« I know how not easy it can be sometimes. I can't promise anything but I'il keep the information in mind. Maybe the other services will need a one-time help. »

Ed smiled, delighted.

« It would be nice, yes. And for the little Hazel, do not worry, I will only go to her only at 10 o'clock. You won't have to cover my back. »

The doctor nodded, satisfied. She knew Ed was doing a very good work, but he could be passionate sometimes for a cause, a patient, and let him go through everything else. An act that is both altruistic and dangerous, a real emergency that can turn to disaster elsewhere for lack of staff.

« Meanwhile, you will help Melissa. She must change the bedding of the 217 and the four adjoining bedrooms. Your arms won't be too much. »

Her orders given, Evora walked away, still burying her muzzle on her mug of black coffee. Ed quivered at the idea of going to room 217 with one of the Grady Sisters.

--

A rapidly open eye informed the boy's brain that it was practically the time to get up. For years, Fred woke up that way. He opened an eye and the brightness of the room informed him with great precision from the moment of the day, and the time he could to stay in bed before his alarm clocked. Despite all the moves and changes in the environment he had known, this little talent had never been deceived or betrayed since the beginning of his puberty. And now that he knew he was going to spend time in this Nail Street's house, that tiny gift would probably be useful again.

Fred opened both eyes and fixed the white ceiling above him. He had the body covered by his sheets, the head emerging alone. Turning the gaze, he saw that his clock indicated the time he was expecting. He still had a quarter of an hour of freedom before he had to get up. He felt his body awakening and regaining consciousness of himself, the spirit increasingly clear, the skin increasingly sensitive, his cock increasingly rigid.

The morning erection tore out a smile of satisfaction. He withdrew the sheets to look at his stiff sex, a satisfied eye posed on the red gland. Flipping his head back, he quickly ran his bare hand on his bare pubis and grabbing the rigid cavernous body between his fingers, worked the meatus with his thumb. He withdrew his hand and moistened his thumb with his saliva before putting his hand back in the right place and starting to give himself some little pleasure. Saliva had increased the given pleasure and, taking care not to breathe too loudly or groaning in a way, he accelerated the movement, causing his teen body being invaded with profound waves of pleasure emanating from his stimulated sex. His eyes closed, he remembered a few episodes of his evening in the company of Greg, FJ and Dave, the only day of his life or he had the happiness of sharing the flesh and the pleasures of his comrades.

Fred, still accelerating the movements of his hand, kept his eyes halfway through the feeling of arriving this unique moment or the result was inevitable. He wore his other hand to squeeze his juices into his testicles and increase his pleasure. Each round trip of his hand, each touch of his thumb stimulating his shaft, now wet of the prostatic juice, brought him closer to orgasm. He could not, as at each time, prevent his mouth from forming the "o" characteristic of the man who was going to have his pleasure, nor his breathing to accelerate on his throat, threatening to let some revealing sounds to emerge.

To counteract any risk, as with his habit, he clenched his teeth and the orgasm overthrew his head back, while his belly was covered by a white and warm spits, expelled by his pleasure. All his body was invaded by the pleasure, the orgasm making all his muscles to react, from the head to his toes curled under the effect of enjoyment.

Taking back his breath slowly, Fred remained lying, the head right, feeling his now wet chilly stomach. He was hesitant about the sequel to give. He could wipe his semen in his sheets, but he had just changed them and he didn't want to stain them and had to rewash them. He could also, as he sometimes did, scrape his semen in his hand and lick it, swallowing his own juice. If it was his choice, he had to quickly do it, having quickly understood how much more time went, and less that practice was pleasant. Fred liked the taste of his own sperm just out. But the taste quickly became unpleasant as the substance was chilled.

He wasn't in the mood to eat his own semen either this morning. Fred turned his head, looked at his nightstand, but found no old handkerchiefs or tissue that could be used for that purpose. He turned his head on the other side, trying to hear sounds coming from the hallway or the nearby bathroom. There was no indication that his father or mother had already been up. They sure must sleeping again. Fred then chooses to quickly wipe his semen on his own belly, thinning the substance and making it invisible. Only a tightness of his skin at the time of drying would remind him of the presence of his dried semen if he too long to take his shower. When the juice was spread, Fred wore his fingers to his eyes to judge the sharpness. He remained a slight whitish trace at the knuckle of the first phalanx of his index.

A quick tongue kick cleaned him out, giving Fred a slight pleasant souvenir of the day, or he had lost his virginity, and a regret, that of having not chosen to taste his own semen again. Then he struck his clock to paralyze the ringing, noting that ten minutes had elapsed. Ten minutes of pleasures before resuming the way to high school. Fred knew no better way to start the school year.

The breath still a bit short of the effort provided, Fred stood up and put an old khaki shorts coming from the foot of the bed. Then he opened the door of his room and looked into the hallway. No one. Fred walked on the silent house and opened the bathroom door.

No one. His parents had to sleep again, even if the boy suspected they would wake up soon. Faced to the mirror, he looked at his thick body and appreciated the curves, following them with his hand. Approaching the sink, he looked at the bottom of his face more attentively, rubbing his fingers the skin that he felt becoming thicker days in days now. The time was close to him or he should start doing what the boys are doing his age. Without cutting himself.

Fred smiled at this thought, removing his shorts and entering the tub. The curtain pulled, he began to shower slowly, enjoying the hot water jet massaging his body still a bit asleep, removing his nocturnal sweat and rinsing his seed. His eyes closed, he rubbed his hair more vigorously, his back turned on the door.

The body washed, the boy chopped the water and seized his towel left deliberately on the rim of the nearby sink, rapidly wiping his own body. A deaf blow would then sound against the door.

« You're done ? Can I come in ? »

The loud and profound voice left no mystery when the applicant's identity. Fred slipped his shorts.

« It's okay, I'm done. »

The door opened, leaving the massive body of the adult that automatically looked at the body of his son, smiling in a vague way, the gaze still tired. John wore an old boxer shorts and a body jersey that hid nothing from his body hair. Fred kept a poker face, wanting to smile. His father was a very manly man and he had to admit it, seductive somehow. He himself did not conceal his young body from his progenitor, who gave him no other look than a paternal one. Fred smelt his wet towel and felt it too used, put it in the laundry basket.

« Mommy is already up? I haven't heard her yet. »

John poured the water from the sink to fill his glass.

« It's normal, she's already gone to work.

• Really ?

• Yes. Her boss called her last night, an emergency job to do, she left around five o'clock this morning. I don't need to tell you she's going to get upset. »

Fred nodded.

« I didn't even heard her.

• You know she knows how to make herself even more discreet than a mouse. Today's the big day, right ? »

Fred nodded again.

« Like every year. A new year to die of boredom like a dead rat with all my buddies. »

John smiled. He also had spent years trying to struggle against boredom in the classroom. Things didn't really change what he seemed like. The only difference to him is that Fred would probably have a better future than he had. John took the time to put toothpaste on his brush before proceeding.

« You know what you're going to do ? Out of the classroom, I mean. »

Fred had the hand put on the doorknob. He suspended his departure, time for him to answer.

« I think. I looked on their site the activities offered. Nothing glorious. Everything revolves around football, baseball and basketball teams. But they also have combat sports lessons. »

The brush in the mouth, John nodded of the head, in a satisfactory manner. Fred seemed to want to keep his engagement after all.

« I don't know which team is the more appealing, but I will do something other than raising cast iron, that's certain. »

John spit out the worn toothpaste and cleaned his mouth.

« Don't load yourself too much. Keep some time for yourself. You're a very good pupil, but that doesn't mean that high school has to eat all your time. I did it a year and I almost ended up in the E.R. »

Fred greeted his father with a quick gesture before returning to his room. He had to get dressed again, eat his breakfast and go. The idea of finally seeing his friends Greg and FJ pleased him, even though he was not happy with the idea of spending the following eight months most often the ass stuck on a chair.

--

The boy, marching, looking around him, saw more and more people to converge to the same place. Fred smiled somewhat by seeing most of the pupils crossing the useless portal of the high school, leaving the parking lot which offered a wider and more convenient access to the courtyard. Wearing a khaki shirt on a well cut black trouser, a backpack nonchalantly on his right shoulder, Fred get caught himself in the game and crossed the heavy wrought iron gates, scrutinizing the looks, the appearances of the arrivals. A swarm of pupils had formed upstream of the gate, the arrivals spread into scattered groups and already occupied by their conversations. Closer to the gate, the density of pupils was diminished by a strange repulsive effect to be held in the narrower passage. In the courtyard, it was again a crowd of young people busy talking, running, telling gossip, hoping for the coming year, to fear for their future. The motley mass did not offer any units in terms of outfits, although it was obvious that everyone had made an effort for this particular day.

Hadn't he spent ten minutes to hesitate between two shirts ? To take some weed or not ? Between wearing white socks or colored ones ?

A single glance allowed him to locate the forming groups. As a sophomore now, he knew by experience that teenagers tended to assemble by centers of interest, friendships already formed or by animosities already established.

Fred always had a little trouble integrating a group. His childhood had not allowed him to form a network of friends. At least it had at least allowed him to discover his attraction for the violent physical efforts that had led him to start attending the sports halls when the instructors accepted to see such a young boy wielding the cast iron. Turning the head to the right, Fred noted three students with military-inspired clothes, just like him. Two girls and a boy. Perhaps this attraction of the army would allow him to integrate this group. The voices rang out everywhere, calling themselves, alas, invectivant sometimes. The school fauna was already beginning to organize some minutes before the ringtone that would send all pupils to their respective rooms.

This thought pushed him to take his cell, hid in the pocket of his green jacket. He quickly consulted the screen to recall the name of his senior teacher and the number of his classroom. Miss Templeton, in room 54. The name didn't say anything to him. Fred had as an excuse the fact that he had spent only one week in the previous year following the late move of his parents. Just knew that the number of his room sent him to the short extension of the « L » shaped building.

Fred looked at his phone again and hesitated to compose and send a message to try to locate and find the only two friends he had already. He seemed a little foolish to do it when they had to find themselves on the spot.

At the same time, the hundreds of pupils in attendance made the reunion difficult in the absence of a rendezvous point.

His hesitation ended when Fred felt on his shoulder a pronounced tap. Returning, he saw the face flourished and square of the young Rottweiler he met a few weeks ago. Greg, yet, wore a relaxed and friendly look at Fred. At his side, the body still so imposing and always so seductive of the donkey complemented the scene. Greg wore a classic jeans and a white shirt hidden under his red soccer player jacket. FJ, wore him a little more discreet smile and a little more critical look on Fred. He hid his slight curves under a loose red sweatshirt, wearing the same kind of pants as his friend.

He seemed to Fred that FJ was more ... mature than at his last encounter. This was on his face with more assertive traits while Greg retained a bit of his candor.

Fred noted quickly the gaze of the other pupils, as well as the low masses circulating. He hadn't attended the boys ' coming out, but he knew that it had a great impact on the prom. It always clearly marked the other pupils. Some wore tender looks at the couple. Others affected to remain neutral. Still others did not even conceal their disapproval.

Fred refocused somewhat on FJ, attempting to ignore the parasite views. That didn't escape Greg who shook the boy's shoulder again.

« The Earth to Fred, are you still on the moon ? »

Fred shook his head as a sign of denial, focusing again on Greg.

« Not really. But it's been a while we hadn't seen each other ! Did you spent some nice holidays ? »

The two lovers looked at a short time before they acquiesced at once.

« It was so great ! I never thought the Canadian Rockies could be so interesting !

• It lacked the internet sometimes, but I really had a real good time ! »

Fred smiled at FJ's commentary. Not only it confirmed his innate nerd character, but besides, the joyful tone he professed showed that his resentment was practically erased. Nothing could make him happier. Greg continued.

« We spent a whole week in and around Vancouver. The city is gigantic but I have more appreciated the surrounding mountains.

• A week ? You didn't get too much rain ?

• Hardly. But Greg and I have never been in the cinema as much as during this stay. Especially in the evenings. »

Fred was watching FJ, an interrogative stare on his eyes.

« We were travelling in family by day, but on the evening, Mark and Ed gave us enough money to eat and go to the movies, while they were going in more interesting but inaccessible places for us. »

FJ smiled while Greg showed a more embarrassed smile. Fred suspected the kind of place he was talking about.

« Don't tell me. They did this all the holidays. »

Fred was smiling.

« And Dave ? Could you go see him ? »

Greg shook his head as a sign of denial.

« Not possible. I tried but they didn't want to go through Portland on the way back, no more room to what they told me. I think it's because they had spent all their money in gay bars and clubs actually !

• It would have been good for him to see you.

• I know. It's stupid, though, he was forced to leave for Oregon. He hates rain so much, he's going to be served !

• It's his parents that you need to blame.

• Yes. But at the same time it is not their fault that they have been mutated. It was that or losing their jobs. »

Automatically, imperceptiblely, the trio began to move towards the grand staircase, following the crowd movement that trained the pupils increasingly closer to the entrance as the deadline arrived. There was no urgency yet, so the boys walked a slow and assured step. Around the trio, the gazes were less incisive. Concentrating on his conversation, Fred did not notice the interrogative face of the other high school students upon him. If he had noted, he would have said that the others questioned the nature of his relationship with the young gay couple, and his own sexual orientation. Even without having made his coming-out, Fred would feel regarded as being gay-friendly. What he was by the force of things.

« By the way, FJ, who is your senior teacher ? »

Fred wore a lighter smile on the boy. He always felt a little shame about the donkey, that was the tone that he used with him.

« Francis.

• Uh ? »

FJ had answered in a dry and somewhat violent manner. Fred was surprised. Greg spoke gently to Fred's ear before his friend could pursue.

« Don't call him that way. It makes him drove mad.

• Oh, why ?

• 'cause I think I'm not a little boy anymore. Nicknames, I find that idiot. That's why I don't call Greg by his nickname, too.

• I understand ... Who's your main teacher, Francis ? »

The donkey smiled and calmed down somewhat.

« I still stumbled upon Ingworth. It suits me because I want to know how much the old man had degenerated. I heard this year than we were really going to try to make him give a lesson to an empty room ! And I want to be there to see that ! »

Fred and Greg don't prevent their big smiles to shine on their lips.

« Pity that I cannot attend this, he is not on my schedule. I got the old Templeton.

• Oh, you too? »

Fred was lucky. He would have at least one lesson in common with his friend.

« How is She ?

• She's an old hag. In every sense of the word. But unlike Ingworth, impossible to cheat with her, and it's better not to try. She's got the same personality than Dad when he's in high school.

• I can see.

• She that your teacher, too?

• Yes. I feel that it's going to be an interesting year. »

Greg nodded. Francis remained mute, believing that he was not concerned.

« You will often see yourself here, so ? »

Francis shook his head.

« No. His old man managed than Greg and me, we only have the sport in common. »

Fred looked up in the sky. This conversation reminded him that he also was on the rottweiller's list. He had been entitled to a small foretaste of his methods and character and that did not left him a good memory. Even though about it, his intervention had been more than beneficial. Which made Fred even more unhappy.

« It's a shame.

• Dad said that like this, we will not spend our time cooing in class. And that it wasn't healthy even for us to spend all our time together. »

Francis was approving.

« Yes. This makes the homecoming more ... interesting at the end of the day ! »

Fred and Greg smiled, one of the pleasure of seeing the boy found his joy despite the drama that struck his father, the other a little more embarrassed, somewhat shy to see some of his intimacy somewhat unveiled. A heavy buzz then filled the air, indicating the beginning of the school year. The three friends separated then and each took the path that would lead them to their respective classes. The still-indistinct crowd of other students also moved and a river of sighing teens crossed the gates, heading to the corridors and stairs before being locked up for hours in halls that seemed even more uncomfortable than they seemed to be.

--

Scratching the neck a last time to get rid of an irritating sensation, the large Rott closed the door of his blue pickup and took the path that led him to the faculty room. Dressed in a dark blue suit to make good impression on this first day, Mark looked around him to judge the changes that could have intervened during his summer absence. The lawn grass seemed drier, yellower than usual. The summer was dry and he knew that the school was not running its automatic sprinkler system often to save money. Only the two sports fields still wore a beautiful green colour. Mark didn't need to get closer to see that the gardeners had done their work during those weeks of rest. Shaking the head of satisfaction, Mark joined a lateral gate accessible after mounting two short steps. On this first day, it was better to leave the main entrance to the students and be satisfied with the service gates. As he expected, others were acting likewise. He saluted his best-known colleagues with a quick glance.

He did not wanted to disturb them during their last cigarette break, merely passing through them smiling, indirectly indicating that he would accomplish his social duties later towards them. He kept breathing fumes from cigarettes passing through. If the tobacco coming from a good cigar was pleasant and even erotic when the puffs emanated from his husband, the cold and acre cigarette smoke always left him a terrible taste in the back throat if he breathed too much of it. Mark crossed the gate, closed it, and began walking along the corridor leading to the faculty hall.

Again, nothing had changed since the previous year. Mark was only in the establishment for a year, but he felt that nothing had evolved for at least a decade. The wide corridor was clean and well lit, but the false ceiling was a grayish tint, a mark of dust and a lack of maintenance. The soil consisted of a good tile combining brown and white pavers, but its wear and aesthetic appearance clearly indicated a presence since the 1970s at least. The cream-colored walls had been painted shortly before arriving. The smell of new was gone since a while and Mark was said that the color would remain unchanged at least ten years ago. The lighting came from neon lights on the ceiling and unlike the previous year, all tubes were on this time.

The relatively morning time did not prevent a few clusters of students of all ages from browsing the places to be among the first to enter the classes, with the aim of choosing the best seats. The gaze of the Rott wandered from one pupil to another, greeted them with a head stroke, that the boy or girl is scheduled on his class or not. It was important to show deference, respect and attention to pupils. Question of politeness, but it was also a way to start dominating them for the year that was going to follow.

All students with at least one year of experience knew that and Mark could identify them, the latter responding by a frightened gaze who delivered to Mark only a profound desire to smile internally.

Arriving at a last angle before turning to the main corridor that would lead him to the desired room, Mark held a moment his step, looking at the ground. He felt a space with the foot and as last time, felt a slight rebound, a mark of a badly repaired repair during previous work.

He smiled, and continued his way, paying attention to a good walk over what constituted a trench-covered in order to fill a space devoted to a pipeline never settled in the final. Mark deliberately accentuated his step by making his weight worn on his steps.

Inside the square room, the occupants already present were busy with their occupations. The place was fairly vast, well-lit. A strong smell of coffee filled the space, coming from over 20 more or less filled cups spread over the various tables that was furnishing the room. Along the walls, cabinets and workbooks grouped hundreds of administrative and pedagogical documents. Even if the place was not lacking in chairs, very few people used them. All or almost all were standing, together in more or less important groups, to talk about their private lives, their schedules, their loves.

The assertions responded to denials, the complaints responded to happiness that arrived during the past season. The intense noise did not allow to follow more than one conversation despite the relative small size of the places that put everyone in the voices of others. Everyone was just as if nothing was and was doing his best to follow his thread.

One of the few seated people put her hand against her cup full of hot coffee. Her first movement had been to take it to drink it but by feeling the slight vibration, the old goat posed a interrogatory gaze on the tiny wave that stirred her drink. Barely that wave had time to form that another agitated the surface before calm. Her thin ears felt at the same time the deaf and profound noise that accompanied the movement.

Abigail Templeton, a venerable literature teacher, wondered for a moment if the premises weren't going to be devastated by a destructive earthquake. Thirty years of life in California had trained her to feel the strange movements, so she almost immediately revoked the earthquake hypothesis. Raising the eyes to the sky, sensing the vibrations of the steps to be amplified every second, she finally raised her cup to drink half, refouling her slight apprehension.

« Did you felt that ? »

The central group of professors stood mute, surprised by the remark and the succession of tremors they felt now. Each vibration seemed stronger than the previous one, and two categories of people were now distinguished in the room.

« What is it ? »

Young people, newcomers, were asking themselves. They looked a bit worried about the elders who smiled, delighted to see the new teachers to face a phenomenon that was unknown to them and causing them to worry.

The deep noise was now perfectly perceptible, and shook the poorly-regulated windows. Each sound seemed stronger than the previous and each vibration seemed to make one with the previous.

The anxious gazes turned to the elders who nodded, indicating to the new the absence of danger in spite of the strange phenomenon. All the professors had turned to the entrance gate when the door opened, letting the imposing Rott which greeted to all the already present, looking delighted to have impressed his new colleagues.

« Hello everyone ! »

A thin lion approached and hugged Mark, while the new ones resumed their breath, the vibrations stopped with the arrival of the Rott.

They were looking at their more experienced colleagues to get more information.

« How were your holidays ? »

Leonid was holding his hand on Mark's shoulder. The latter was careful to respond in a fairly strong way to be heard from all.

« It was great! Vancouver is a wonderful place in this season but it doesn't tremble as much as here ! To what I see, they still haven't filled the damn trench ! »

Mark was happy, happy to resume his service, ending his long days of inactivity.

« It is not with the subsidies given by the state that the high school will make it in any case ! »

Leonid withdrew his hand and introduced Mark to newcomers.

« Guys, this is Mark. He has been here for a year only but has already succeeded to traumatize as many pupils as I have in the last five years ! »

Mark bowed his head, always smiling, to greet the new colleagues. He saw three young men and two young girls, one of whom had a look at his large carcass. Mark said he would have to quickly shower her hopes to avoid any inappropriate situation. The occasion would undoubtedly arise because Leonid led Mark to the group. With his free hand, the lion designated the newcomers, presenting them to his friend.

"Guys, this is Mark. One of my colleagues who is formally instructed to teach sport but actually vests in the psychic trauma of the pupils. »

Mark greeted the group with his head, smiling.

« Mark is in charge of the freshmen and the seniors this year, and he will also have the formidable duty to succeed our beloved Helen at the head of the basketball team !

• Thanks Leonid. I just hope I don't do worse. Perhaps this year our team will be able to chain two passes. All hopes are allowed ! »

Leonid smiles in turn.

« Mark, here are the newcomers. Firstly, Mr van Gerret, in charge of the physical sciences. »

The young lion greeted his elder with due respect. Mark believed that the boy facing him had to be a little beginner, seeing his young age. He did not know whether or not he had occupied such a position in the past. At the right of the lion, a somewhat chubby otter was held.

"Miss Irvina here will have to try to make our residents to understand that music is not confined to rap and that insipid soup that they insist on calling R'n' B. Good luck also to get the money from the school board to have new scores. »

The young woman nodded, her eyes in heaven.

« At worst I will upload them and print them illegally.

• Be sure then to do so from a computer out of this building. »

The music teacher nodded again, keeping a wide smile on her round face. Leonid now designate another young woman, a tigress, thin and athletic. Since Mark's entrance, she was the one who had constantly put her eyes on her new colleague.

« Mademoiselle Girgigh...

• Girgovitch!

• Miss Girgovitch, therefore, succeeds our beloved and unhappy Helen. I already warned her that she would have the table near the door and the draughts. »

Mark was smiling widely. That under hearing he took Hélène's place. Literally and figuratively.

« I hope we will spend an excellent year. I've heard a little about your ... say methods of motivation.

• Really ? I hope you don't believe all these rumors. They're fake, I can assure you. The mental and physical situation of my pupils is worse than you can believe ! »

The young tigress could not hold a laugh she tried to conceal, diverting her gaze somewhat. It was obvious that no one had warned her. Mark approached and shook his colleague's hand, being careful to show the silver ring that dressed his finger. The young woman saw it and stiffed a little, visibly disappointed. Leonid just noticed and was amused a little bit.

« I am afraid that my friend Mark is doubly inaccessible. »

The young woman blushed somewhat, understanding than her gazes had been noticed. She looked around but most of the occupants of the room were occupied with their own conversations. Mark was careful to put a final point to the young Tiger's hopes.

« Later, I think I invite you and some others for a barbecue. You'll be acquainted with my husband. He's a nurse, and he can give you some advice if you need it. »

The young woman nodded, trying to mask her double disappointment. The great and seductive Rott was indeed doubly inaccessible. Mark was able to see that she would make the best of a bad job.

« I will be delighted. But Leonid, you haven't told me yet why your old colleague was gone... »

Mark and Leonid understood that this question, posed to know the end word of history, was also used to change the conversation.

« It's a long story. Ellen found better elsewhere but to be sincere, the school board advised her to change her premises. She was nice and skilled with teenagers, but she also had little passion for such a profession.

• In a nutshell like a hundred, she drank. »

Leonid accompanied Mark's franchise of an affirmation of the head, posing a reprobing eye about the harshness of the chosen word.

« I just hope that her new place will give her an opportunity to change her habits. »

Leonid was more satisfied. He knew that Mark was always displaying a great franchise, sometimes at the expanse of the inheritance of the others. The lion turned to the last two young men who remained to present.

"Mister Fawrin will second mister Ingworth."

Mark hailed the equine.

« Nor do we hope to see our beloved friend Aleister go to an ophthalmologist this year. Lastly, Mr. Lowell has been charged with the cumbersome and complicated task of teaching mathematics to our uneducated brainmen that we are sometimes attempting to instruct. »

The labrador hailed.

« I wish you courage ! Now I'm going to have to leave you because I have someone to see in particular. »

Mark greeted the group one last time before taking the direction of one of the tables occupied by one person. The Rott knew well the old goat and despite the various clashes that could have occurred between the two well-known personalities, he had a great deal of respect for that old woman. He knew her human skills as well as professional. That was going to help him for the coming year.

Shaking his head to try to ignore the parasite noises of the conversations that did not concern her, Miss Templeton was trying to concentrate on annotated sheets that exceeded her thick works. The sudden presence of the grand Rott who settled in front of her at her table without her invitation made her realize she was going to have to undergo an unwanted conversation. Even though he was sympathetic and affable, Mark knew how to impose himself when he had to be in spite of the desires of others. What worked with his pupils also sometimes worked along with his colleagues, even though he was careful to show more politeness and deference to the oldest. The old woman raised her head and scrutinized the delighted face and foolish of the Rott who smiled, keeping herself a voice and a neutral tone, filled with politeness and indifference.

« Hi Abi !

• Mr. Miller, you know I don't like being called like that.

• Of course, but habits have a tough life.

• What do you want, Mr. Miller ?

• Just talk a little bit with you ... about my son. »

Abigail looked at his eyes.

« Your son ? »

Abigail Templeton was a little surprised. She didn't know Mark was father, and she was wondering in her inner for how it was possible. She was not unaware of the evolution of society and couples, but she was a little lost when it was to move to practical things.

« He's in your classroom this year.

• Your... son ?

• Adoptive.

• Ah.

• Greg is not the brightest of the students, I know, and there is little chance that this will change. He is not made for long studies, but I do not intend to leave him at his current level. He has gaps and that will harm him once an adult. »

Miss Templeton took a leaf in her hands and scrutinized it, searching for the name.

« Gregory Miller ? »

Mark nodded.

« You already know him in fact. He wore the name of my sister and her husband so far. Maxwell. »

Abigail thinks a moment.

« You're talking about Gregory Maxwell ? Gruff ?

• It's him.

• I didn't know you were entrusted.

• I'd give everything so that it's not the case. But no one can undone the past and he is now my family. »

Miss Templeton wondered why Mark was talking about the boy.

« Don't get me wrong. That my nephew is now my son makes me an happy and fulfilled man. But Greg had to go through a terrible ordeal and if I could spare him that, I'd have done it.

• Did he lose his parents ?

• They're the ones who lost him. They kicked him out when they knew he had a boyfriend. Like if he was nothing. To protect him, justice tied him to my bloodline. I'm not going to complain, he's the winner on all the charts. »

Abigail always kept the leaf in her hands but she was looking at Mark. He was trying to wear a cheerful face, but the pain was barely reading.

The old woman did not understood the possibility for an individual to be able to desire another of his own sex. When interviewed on many occasions, she had made a certain hostility to this idea. But she also admitted to understanding that rejection and violence against them was an unfair and criminal thing. So she felt the sincerity of Mark's pain.

« Why do you come to me, Mr. Miller ? »

Mark looked up, holding out his grief.

« I want the best for my boy. You are not the most sympathetic or open-minded teacher, but you are the most proficient in my mind. You're what my boy needs. An energetic, demanding and understanding woman. I'm known to make a snake to run a marathon on its legs. You're like me. You'd make a mule a Nobel of literature ! »

Abigail looked up to the sky and sighed. It was flattering, but exaggerated. Just like everything that Mark was doing.

« You can believe me when I tell you that some Nobel laureates seem more idiotic than some of my students, according to their writings. I'm not used to let one of my pupils on the way. You can torture your students in peace, I'll keep an eye on your boy and I will do everything to fill his empty head !

• I knew I could count on you ! »

To her great displeasure, Abigail saw the Rott rise, turn around the table and lean on the old woman to kiss her loudly on her cheek before she could flee or express her refusal.

« Take care of my boy's mind, I take care of the rest ! »

Mark was going to continue but a new ringtone indicated to all the professors that the time had come to return to their classrooms. Outside the room, they could hear the cavalcade of the students being late who were eager to earn their chairs before the professors. The latter will slowly emerge, once the coffee is finished or emptied into the trash. A new school year was starting.