Treble Clephan

Treble Clephan (the latter pronounced as if "Deaf" and "Barn" were welded together) is a fellow cut from fine cloth indeed. I had stumbled into the kitchen one morning entirely expecting to see an urban sprawl of dirty dish skyscrapers but found a pristine, neatly-arranged environment with an inviting plate of bacon and eggs on the table next to a pot of fresh coffee animated with curling steam. Amidst this glorious set up — indeed its very creator — stood Treble, who was clad in a navy blue apron and mixing ingredients for blueberry muffins. He radiated a friendly greeting when he was aware of my presence and told me to tuck into the breakfast he had prepared. I didn't argue. Quite the contrary, actually: I thanked him with every adjective I could think of and began to feast.

"This is most delicious," I told him emphatically. "Delicious." I made a noise that, in retrospect, was a bit too close to an orgasm for comfort.
"I'm glad you like it," beamed Treble. "And later on we can have these blueberry muffins for afternoon tea."
"I can't wait," I said eagerly, engulfing another bacony-eggy mouthful.
"And then we shall sit on the veranda, watch the stars and sip carbonated apple juice with no added sugar."
"Oh!" I ejaculated. "You really have thought of everything."
A modest smile spread across his face.
"I don't know about that, but thanks."
"You are most welcome, but I assure you that you're the one who needs to be thanked."
"Oh," said Treble's heart. "Oh. I... You know, if you were a woman—" He trailed off.
"I know," I said, patting him tenderly on the back.
"Maybe if it was the other end and just not there..." he continued. "And... Maybe if you had long brown hair. And no beard. And breasts. And a nice face. And—"
"—I know," I interrupted. "I know."
We held hands for a moment.
"And girl hands," added Treble, unclasping.

There was an excruciatingly long pause. Our hearts kept a fast tempo throughout.
"You don't have any sisters, do you?" asked Treble, breaking the silence at last.
"No, I don't. You?"
"No. Curse our condom-clad parents."
I nodded thoughtfully.

"I need to go to the toilet," said Treble a while later, rising from his seat.
"OK."
After I heard the lock turn, I made my way over to the door and listened as he squeezed out something nasty. To most ears, it would be a thoroughly unpleasant and disgusting sound, but to mine it was heavenly.
"Oh," I said, forgetting myself.
"Er... Is that you?" asked Treble from behind the door.
I froze.
"...No, no it isn't."
"Oh OK. I just thought I heard someone."
"No, there's no one here."
"Yeah, I was just making sure."
"I understand. Anyway, I must be off."
"So soon?"
"'Fraid so. I've two screaming kids at home."
"I see. Well, it was nice meeting you."
"Likewise."
"Bye."
"Bye."
I quickly made my way back to the kitchen.

"Something extraordinary has just happened," said Treble, when at last he emerged.
"What?" I asked.
"Well, while I was on the bowl, there was this... Well, this... Voice. It wasn't a person, as there was no one there, but there was just this voice. We had a nice little chat."
"How extraordinary."
"My thoughts exactly."
I nodded.
"So everything went well then?" I asked, four nods in.
"Oh yes. It was delightfully hassle-free."
"Good to hear."
The rhythm had left our conversation, and there was yet another lull in proceedings. I toyed with my bacon and gazed wistfully out the window until the next utterance.

"Why does the penis have to be so horrible?" uttered Treble.
"Yeah, I know," I agreed.
"And you have enough trouble getting things out of that other bit. I certainly don't want to put anything in there."
"I know what you mean."
"And we're ugly and we have muscles."
"Well..." I said, looking at my arms.
"And... Oh I don't know. There must be someone out there."
"There is," I said reassuringly. "You'll find her."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"You're a good friend."
"And you're a great one."
Treble sighed.
"Thank you," he said. "I... Thank you."
"I thank you too."

And then I had to leave. I had my daily axe to grind. I didn't want to leave him, and I wished I could stay there all day, but I didn't much fancy going without food anytime soon, so I had no choice but to bid adieu.

A tomboy helped me overcome my shyness and I married her. The regularity with which I usually visited Treble was severely cut down, and eventually we stopped seeing each other entirely. I all but forgot about him and focused my attention on my lovely wife. I know how it sounds, but it's true. I loved my wife. Obviously not enough to develop her character beyond a passing reference, but certainly more than I have loved anybody else in my life. Actually, I'll go out on a limb and say she's the only person I've ever truly loved. And she didn't have a penis.