A tear still trickled down her cheek. I reached across with my napkin and gently dried her eye. She looked up at me directly then.“He’s gone,” s...e said flatly.“Did he leave a note?” I asked. She pointed at my plate. Under the dome covering my dish of oatmeal was a small envelope with my name on it. I somehow didn’t think it was a get well card. I opened it and read it over.“I don’t know what I was thinking, Dag,” I read. “They’ll hunt me for as long as they think I can be found. I certainly. Not romantically, of course, but I figured that wewould have been friends even if he knew me as a boy. The days went by and I became more and more immersed in femininity. Itbecame natural to get up, take a bubble bath, then slip into lingerieand a dress. I became very good at makeup. Gran was supportive andhelpful, and was always encouraging me to do more feminine things. Eventhough my girl's clothes were routine, I never tired of seeing mypolished toes encased in nylon, or putting my. More

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