Days of sitting in front of the screen and the keyboard, pressing Refresh in the hope of her answer, then pacing the room, then pushing Refresh again....And nights of waking in the darkness, to light the room with the glow of the phone as I pressed Refresh there too.When at last the computer chimed, it was late in an evening, when I had just stepped from the shower, fresh from a run where I had tried and failed to clear my mind with exertion and rhythm. Her message was there, bold in the Inbox. I worked out the details of my plan. As soon as it was safe, I would leave the convent and travel to Paris, as Francine, of course. I was very comfortable living in my new gender; more so, I was now committed to being a woman. In fact, I could not imagine returning to my former life as a man, even if somehow the physical changes could be reversed, of which I was sure could not be. I certainly had no desire to remain in the military. As for a return to my pre-war civilian life, there was. Drivas tried to stay angry at Sam, really, she did. Finally, a smile broke out on her face. With everything you have done for the both my sister and me I can’t stay mad at you, though. Here Drivas drew back her fist punching Sam in the arm.Sam was driven back well over a hundred meters. Reaching out he grasp the arm, damn he thought that actually hurt. Flying back to Drivas, Sam started to show here hoe to control her flight, also how to go faster.Finally, an hour later they both alit not far. Greg was black-mailing me because he knew I liked to sneak out of the program most nights to visit my girlfriend. Had to pay the piper, or at least give the piper a flute to play every now and again.Greg was one of those angry bitter people you meet in life sometimes. The glass was always half empty for that guy. He blamed his homosexuality on his former wife. Said she cheated on him and took him to the cleaners in divorce court. Now he could Never trust a woman Again!Slowly, as I listened to.