Mature stories

she was reputed to be a tough teacher and a tyrant, but Kelly and I loved her. Other students advised us to avoid her at all costs, but we thrived in her class. We learned a lot from her and were indeed good writers when the course was over, as evidenced by the many lab reports we had to write. I learned to write newspaper stories, which, I found out, were exactly opposite to fiction and to perhaps a lesser extent, technical papers. A good newspaper article, I learned, was written with the most important facts, the climax if you will, first, then followed with each detail in decreasing importance, so that a reader did not have to go through the entire article to glean the points that were important points. The details were all there, but placed so that anyone who didn't care about them could still get the salient facts without going through the entire article. I had also learned to love my life as a Gay lover. Kelly and I were accepted more or less for who and what we were, the important things being nothing about sex or even love for that matter. The world did indeed have tolerance, if one only could find mature stories. We had not told anyone a small aspect of the whole proceeding: We were not receiving one degree, but two. We both got our engineering degree, and we both also received a degree in Math. "You mischievous little shits!" Robbie exclaimed, "Why didn't you tell us?" "Didn't think of it," I answered as I embraced my Kelly again, "By the time you get an engineering degree you're so close to having all the requirements for a math degree, we decided we might as well do mature stories right." It's true, mature stories was no big deal.