Life, without hope of release

More swimming lessons, not school ones, presumably, on a Saturday, are ongoing in the pool building outside my window. There's a cutie there, too, another in the strictly 'eyes only' category, 10, or thereabouts. If, by some infinitesimally unlikely chain of events, though, I found myself in a position where I might succumb to temptation with someone like him, a news story I heard on the radio a little earlier puts my situation into perspective. A retired teacher, from somewhere fairly close to here, has been found guilty of 'historic sex offences', as the current, post-Savile buzz phrase has it, against two boys of that age. Nearly forty years ago. That means that, if something happened today, I'd still be a wanted man in my nineties, not that I've got the slightest expectation of living that long. Just being a boylover is enough of a life sentence in this society, a 'cruel and unusual punishment', without spending your whole life looking over your shoulder. And yet some still think its a choice.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B