I think those are among the most wonderful phrases in the world. Withjust those six words, a person can be prepared to be transported toanother world,...or another time, or feel like a fly on the wall of a reallife event.Which kind of story is this one? Well, let me tell you, and you canjudge.My story starts when I was about sixteen years old, and I was not doingall that well.I had been struggling with my gender for as long as I could remember, butit seemed like lately I could not fight any. In time, I refined my processes of behavioural adjustment, recognising that a market existed for the development of the skills and attitudes of their life partner amongst those that wished to climb society’s rungs. It was on this sphere of work that I had settled. The behavioural adjustment of Harwell Tusker’s wife had been one of my earliest projects. I had also hit on the idea of basing my fees on the future earnings of my clients, demonstrating to them that their success was of primary. . but you'd still 'ave an 'ome. Let's get ya home." Thanks," Abigail murmured and she waited as Margaret locked her office and then the stairwell at the bottom of the steps. She unlocked her car – a sporty little hatchback and Abigail climbed in; it was a lot newer than any other car she had been in."What are you doing for a job?" Margaret asked and Abigail shrugged. "I own that practice, there's another solicitor who works there. We need a new office assistant," she offered. "I'd be happy to. " So I went along.As we made our to the room I saw many of the couples from the prom. Itwas the most awkward I felt all night. I got through it by tellingmyself that I had nothing to were about, no one knew it was me. It wouldbe over in a few hours and all behind me.We got to the room and I sat on the bed. Roy shut the door, but didn'tlock it. Watching him walk around the bed and started to taking hisclothes off. This was now getting really strange."What are you doing," I said for the first.