I remembered how often I hadlooked at boys, and remarked to myself that I had to act that way, orto move my hands in that fashion, because that was ho... boys acted. Myentire boyhood had been a big play act.I was a sissy. How on earth was I ever going to learn how to live withthat truth, unless... Unless I could somehow not live like a sissy,but hide it by living like a girl? Is that what my uncle was doing tome? Was he really going to give me this second chance? At least, Irealised, if I lived. “Or other libations,” he coughed. “What should I play?”“Play something you wrote,” Linda said.“How do you know I write songs?” he asked with a knowing smile.“I read your aura.”“Did my aura also tell you that I’m infatuated with your grace and poise?” he shot back in a teasing tone.“Oh, Kryssi! He’s good. Play for us.”He pinked around for a few seconds and then strummed an A-minor. Settling himself in, he complimented my father on the quality of the guitar and began playing.It was as soulful,. More

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