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... twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir— I lifted the receiver.“Did it ring?” she asked.“Of course not,” I said, laughing a little as I shook my head. A randomly perfect machine... “Good,” she cooed. “Then let’s get to sleep. I’m beat.”“Are you sure this is okay? It’s going to be a huge phone charge.”“I don’t care. I just really want to be with you, and this is the best we can do.”“All right. Let me get in bed.”We were soon settled, phones on our pillows near our ears and mouths. I could hear Heather’s quiet breathing over the slight airy noise of the line. The night was still, no breeze to rustle the trees outside. Only the stars made any sound outside as they traversed the great blue sphere.Everyone went through ups and downs, I knew, but it was hard to hear Heather suddenly struggling with the long-distance aspect. She was always melancholy after we visited each other, as was I. But as she’d noted, it seemed to be a bit harder each time. Well, really it was especially hard this time. Julia squeezed my handand whispered it will be okay Susan. Susan I thought, my name is Eddieand I'm a bloke, not a glamorous and, yes, sexy woman that had appearedin the mirror not so long ago.I reflected on what was less than 24 hours. I was now a beautiful womanand not the guy who pretended to be a girl at 4am this morning: I hadbeen picked up by the police and forced to undress in front of a rookiepoliceman (the very man who was now on my arm for the evening); I hadbeen eyed up by a bloke on a bus as I exposed the top of my stockings;been befriended by a lovely woman in a ladies toilet; been exposed andby a rude and offensive waiter; kissed on the lips by a male taxidriver; and in the last four or so hours turned in to a beautiful womanwith his very own breasts.As we stepped out of the car Julia turned to me and said, "me and Deanare the only two people that know you are a guy Susan. You look like awoman trust me, and you will encounter aspects of being a woman that younot faced.
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