Their hair was long enough now to easily assume a feminine look and they had become adept at quickly making their hair go from hip pony tailed busines...man to bosomy upswept playmates. When the bunny parade finally ground to a halt, the "girls," for that is how they now perceived themselves, collapsed into their desks, sweat shining through the matte finish on their foreheads but still careful not to crumple into any male postures of exhaustion but instead falling limply, daintily into repose.. . .’ Tom’s voice was worse for wear in the early morning, especially since he hadn’t slept the night before but he managed Peter Blegvad’s song as best he could. When he finished, his four year old daughter on the other end giggled her appreciation, said goodbye and hung up before he could reply. He went through his morning routine and dressed. He looked out over his deck at the haze hanging over the lake. His blue swim trunks went down toward his knees, his loose fitting shirt caught. More

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