He was lean and athletic. Marco was a brilliant student, he wore fashionable clothing and expensive Italian shoes. English wasn't his native language... his quaint speech make me laugh. He would sit with me outside my dormitory, watching the cold grey Scottish sky turn from slate to ash, to purple then to blackness. He would comment about how the arts and craft style gas lights looked like a set of testes hanging from above, glowing and needy as the shaft of light would be cast into the. Those were almost exclusively girls and women in groups. They were theworst of all, often staying in front of the window for a long time onend, revelling in making her do embarrassing things.At least that seemed to be the case for the girls who looked to be intheir early twenties. The more mature women were less invested in pokingfun at her. Just like those who lusted after her these girls also took awhile to figure out she was in fact a guy and not a girl in one of themost ridiculous outfits. "Put more sun block on," I yelled through open portholes from inside the pilothouse.Weather waved back at me, smiled and started applying sunscreen lotion to her exposed arms and legs, bending to rub it over slender thighs and down her calves.One hand shot out to steady herself against a raised cargo-hold cover when we crested a wave, the boat quartering and moving in a slight corkscrew motion as we rounded the headland of Therasia. I'd offered to take her out to see some of the outlying. Help would be nice. Rescue would be wonderful. For a moment, I indulged in the luxury of hope. Then, the reality of my situation sunk in."No. Unless we can figure out where I am, it would be useless. Remember, they've searched before and found nothing. He's been at this for long enough to feel safe and maybe he's so well hidden that we'd have to turn the whole city upside down to find him, but maybe he has also gotten complacent. Maybe he'll make a mistake and I can get free. I'm OK so far..