Like some long-ago female Diogenes, my mind wanders, searches. I hold up my lamp in daytime, seeking what girls perpetually seek but almost never find...– an honest man. My phone interrupts. Worried its vibration might wake him, I slip from the bed to grab it. It’s a text from Angel: ANGEL – ‘where is he?’ ME – ‘sleeping’ ANGEL – ‘you’re out of bed?’ ME – ‘yes. other side of the room. don’t want to wake him up.’ ANGEL – ‘you can’t be out of bed!’ ME – ‘had to read your text!’ ANGEL – ‘he’s. I moan in relief and try to rub out the sore spots. I love my work, but, as in every profession, there’s always a physical consequence. I smiled when I heard him enter the bathroom and felt his calloused hands sliding over my own. Working hands, we both have working hands. We’ve both earned every scar, every callous for the sake of our craft. My hands have long lost anything feminine about them, but I’m strangely content by that – these hands can craft dreams out of metal and stones. “Hi baby,”. She once felt like Susan was suddenly vanishing across the door like a flash again she did not go to bank the next day. She took leave in the next two days, as she could not show up her swollen lips and scratch filled neck and stomach to the out side world.She explained Susan that some insect had bitten her when she was in sleep last night. George joked about it saying that even insects infatuated with her and tried to kiss her. In two days, her lips got cured and again went to the bank with. This is you Lor, isn't it something elseshe said to me.If only all the other boys out there knew how what this islike we would all want to be girls.Now Lor the thing is I think yourdifferant from most,i think your a femboy.We may discover or uncover somethings about you if we try a couple of other things out on you.Oh look atthe bulg of your penis that looks really hard to me.Let me touch it foryou but first put this on and out from under the bed came a red slingbackfive inch heel which she.