Andrew Dominguez
Bio
Greetings! My name is Andrew Judeus. I am an NY-based writer with a passion for creating romantic narratives. Hopefully my daily wanderings into the land of happily ever after will shed some light into your life. Enjoy!
Stories (57/0)
Our Thankful Goodbye, Thankful For Me
“I am thankful for my mom. I am thankful for my dad. I am thankful for good health. I am thankful for my home. I am thankful for my wife. I am grateful for my husband. I am thankful for my children. I am thankful for my family. I am thankful to not be alone.” I hear these sentences coming from people, all types of people. Everyday. More than once a day, more than I care to hear. What am I thankful for? What am I thankful for. I think about this question, this rhetorical statement, often though I admittedly try to avoid the thought.
By Andrew Dominguez3 years ago in Humans
The Villain
We laid in his bed, side by side, finally bare to what we were. Words fell into limbo, though I still engaged in playful, childish wordplay during the climax to reiterate our foundation. He observed my jovial facade; allowing it; contesting it through those beautiful blue eyes; those blues that said infinitely more than what he usually uttered through his lips. I looked at this passageway in my exploration, remembering their wetness from only minutes before. As I continued, nearing the culminating moments of the act, I revisited them once again. Wet, slightly chapped and nevertheless soft like the rest of his face. I looked at his exposed arm, the two moles on it mirroring mine, also on my left arm, also in the same spot. Only seconds away from finishing, I wondered if he also noticed our one resembling trait.
By Andrew Dominguez4 years ago in Humans
Existing Obsolete
“He doesn’t even know I exist,” was my running thought every time I saw him. Every time I looked at him taking orders, standing confidently erect and flaunting every ounce of his physical beauty. This was never an intentional demonstration for he wasn’t vain despite having every reason to be; he was tall; his hair dirty blonde, wavy and soft, an imagined softness aromatized with his body's pheromones.
By Andrew Dominguez4 years ago in Humans
A Damn For the Road
A Damn For the Road (Max’s Tale Ends) Goddamn you: all of you. Damn you mother, for not letting me get to Aron when it all began, even if he was already finished. Damn you Sergei, for not letting me make you stay. Damn you Victor Alfaro, for not letting me escape Sergei, Aron, Johnny, you...
By Andrew Dominguez4 years ago in Humans
Trying
Trying I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. I tried scrolling through Indeed, Craigslist, and Upwork for longer than a minute; I’ve tried looking for jobs; I’ve tried working on my postponed novel. I’ve tried working without postponing; I’ve tried postponing my train-wreck. Instead I've driven the train through his Facebook and Instagram and wrecked by validating his political and career posts. Stopping myself is insignificant: in a matter of twelve days and four shifts, we’ll never see each other again and my wreck will postpone itself to pick-up elsewhere.
By Andrew Dominguez4 years ago in Humans
Nameless
NAMELESS It’s funny how sometimes we forget about things for years and years and then suddenly, one day, it all revisits our memory. And no, I don’t mean a repressed memory which usually entails traumatic experiences or so on; I mean one specific period that dates back to our teenage years, childhood, or before most things about life made full sense. That one memory that restores sense, maybe a little late for our own existential comfort, but arriving nonetheless to sense things out.
By Andrew Dominguez4 years ago in Humans