Author's webpage: http://www.dementia.org/~jacquez/writing/fanfic.html

Author's notes: Thank you to Deb Baker, Basingstoke, and Karen H., who talked me through this and down from the ceiling and off of the walls.

What, he said, over his shoulder--you thought Jim was Christian? He has a spirit animal, Simon; he has visions. He grinned at me; his eyes crinkled at the corners and I realized he was almost forty, that I'd known him for nearly fifteen years. I have them too, now, he said. Jim calls it Judeo-Shamanism. And he laughed, and I looked away, at the picture of them on the mantle, their arms around each other. I grew up Baptist. I never thought, not once, that I'd end up best friends with a couple of guys who were, well, whatever they are--gay pagans?--and then Jim called from upstairs: Sandburg, could you not leave your shorts on the floor for once? and they were just guys again.