Adam Mars-Jones' "The Waters of Thirst" is not a story of lust and unrelieved tumescence, such as those by better-known writers that often populate the shelves of "gay and lesbian" sections of bookstores. It is, rather, the story of William, a voice-over artist in London who has a monogamous relationship with Terry, an airline employee, and who enjoys tea-parties and socializing, but, who, in consequence of a medical crisis, has been reduced to sizing up his friends and neighbors as potential organ donors. It is kidney disease that is slowly overtaking his life, dictating that he may not even sleep in the arms of his lover of fourteen years and that he must transfer his amatory fantasies onto an American porn star, Peter Hunter, who may himself be dying of a degenerative disease. When we learn that William is in an AIDS ward, not because he has AIDS, but because he has just had a kidney transplant operation that appears to have gone badly, the narrative takes on the quality of a confession. Williams remembers the petty moments in his life with Terry, as when he used to humiliate him in grocery stores by parodying Terry's mother, who "listened" to the syrup levels in tins of fruit before buying them. Some of that pettiness threatens to follow William to the grave, as when he sends out a musical dedication to Terry over the hospital radio but misspells his lover's name as "Terri" on the request form to avoid embarrassment. But it is William's authentic narrative voice--the voice of everyman--rendered in masterful stream-of-consciousness form, that will continue to haunt the reader look after he has put down the book. Neither a stereotype nor an aberration, William is a man who lives and loves and who wants to continue doing both, just like the rest of us, even though he has been randomly picked out for extermination by a disease. In "The Waters of Thirst," Mars-Jones has written a novel that portrays a homosexual protagonist as everyman. May every man who reads it be enriched by the experience.