I asked Hobo Joe, him being the oldest of us, if they’d ever been late like this before. Once. When he was young, before any of us, he told me. Why?...I wondered and he just shrugged. Never asked, never said. Only time it ever happened.So we sat around and worried, night after night. Far as any of us knew, the leather clowns had been coming forever. Never talked much. Hell, we didn’t even know their names or where they came from. Just accepted it, you know, and gave them our own names. Like Red,. . After my sessions with thepsychologist for the last few months, my attitude towards him was notthat of hatred. Neither did it change to love but it was more ofindifference. In fact my hate for him had totally subsided, but I feltthat there was no necessity to have any relationship with him. I hadfully understood that he was in no way responsible for my feminizationand that apart from his taunting nature, he had nothing against me thatI should hate him. It also became clear that even his. More

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