"You okay?" A man asked."I...I think so," I stammered, trying to blink away the blurriness of mytears.I glanced down and saw her child in my arms, her...hand still clinging ontothe bottle. The more I looked; I realized that the feminine hand holdingthe bottle was my own. "How?" I gasped. I wanted to scream, somehowthough, I held it in.The man...I used to be, turned forward again facing the alter, hisattention was upon the Catholic Mass. "How could one minute I be him,then the next be this woman?". And if we happen to go out for any reason no one is going to ask you what you were doing while we were away." I said with a giggle."We would not necessarily want you to leave your own home," Marjory said, "If you let us have a room and you don't mind us looking a bit embarrassed or sheepish afterwards," she said blushing. I"I have a better idea than that. You could phone up your folks and say we have asked you to stay the night, and tell them we have plenty of spare rooms, though that might. More

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