Although in the back of my mind I knew that I was really someone else, my life would now be lived as a female, I was a female, genetically, mentally, ...he body and nature of Sarah now mine. She would live as James Burton, I as her, my true life and identity stolen. Still taking to Lucy as if nothing had happened my inner being had accepted its fate. The girl that I had seen last week and fancied but had been to ashamed to admit it, was now me. The old man, the man that had now been my father. When an aging friend became gravely ill. When her husband crossed the Line with another woman. Despite its undesirability, the Line was a mutual necessity. It helped us stay close but apart while she struggled with her marital strife. The Line was a comfort, until today. It was the product of mutual respect, but it suddenly became halfway obsolete. That wasn't unexpected, but it was a threat to our habit. Today, a day that starts like many other Fridays, with the knowledge that I will not see. More

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