That night all hell would break loose and in the end my life would never be the same. You see in the first wave attack that night I was hit several ti...es and so were many of my friends and fellow soldiers. Our lieutenant called in for evac and air support; even though I was wounded I was able to keep fighting. I wouldn’t see the end of the fight because shortly after 1:33 am my position would be hit by RPGs there was seven of us in that area when the first RPG hit I don’t remember what happened. She turned to her visitor. “You like wine, I take it?”“Certainly. What is its provenance?”“The vineyards of the Transylvanian valleys, where I originally come from.”“Really? When was that?”“1879.” She glanced up at the charred roof beams. “Three years before the fire.”“Arson?”“Faulty electrical wiring. This was the first private residence in England to have electricity, you know. There were cowboy contractors even in those days!”She pulled a glass stopper from a decanter and flung it over her. That moment was when I called myself Stella. The name came to me like a prayer, and like a god, I embraced it. No surprise, my mother caught me wearing her clothes that day. She had the biggest smile on her face and nearly cried when she first saw me. She hugged me tight and said how beautiful I looked, how beautiful her daughter looked. I was touched. It was no secret or surprise to her that I was a transsexual; she probably suspected that since the day I was born. It was the fact that I. " She smiled to herself at that."Under the bed?" She got down to look. After an unpleasant search in which several mismatched and extremely smelly socks and a mouldy apple core were discovered, she found nothing.Pausing to rethink her plan she put her hand under his pillow. Nothing. On impulse, she found the edge of the bed and searched the gap next to the wall. His pillow nestled in the crook of her elbow as she ran her fingers under the edge of his mattress.The fabric of cloth under her touch.