Kalmin looked around some more. He saw another old gay couple, one with a cane and a tank, and the other in a wheelchair. They were staring at “Fury.” For a moment, the man with a cane glanced at Kalmin, and he felt embarrassed and looked down, only to curiously look up again and see the pale man smile warmly at him. He glanced at Kalmin’s hands clutching onto Mira and Deimos, and then back up at his wide, horrified stare. Slowly and shakily, he dipped his head in respect.
Kalmin flushed and he looked back at whatever photograph they were looking at.
Then, suddenly, Mira squeezed Kalmin’s hand and they were standing in front of a fairly large abstract painting.
Kalmin wasn’t an artist. He was a hockey player and a barista. He was half-Korean and half-black. He was bisexual. He had ma
