“Ooooo, we should get out of here. I can’t do this, here - i mean.”“Do you have a place in mind? Somewhere nearby where you would feel more comfortable?” Fay pressed gently?“Oh. I live diagonally across the street, in a small flat. Let’s go.” Kirsten answered.“Take me then.” the girl answered, quickly rising from her chair in a rustle of fabric.With the girl silently close behind, Kirsten rushed to the door, nearly oblivious to the gathering crowd in the shop, and still coming through the door, even though the rain was beginning to let up. Another young women with a small boy at her side was blocking the doorway, trying to come in as Kirsten tried impatiently to get out.“Oh, excuse me,” the mother said, as she pressed to the side. “Look, mommy, a fairy” said the young boy. “There’s no such thing as fairies, Nathan, now look out, this way, come on.” chided the young mom.‘That’s a first,’ Kirsten thought to herself, ‘that’s the LAST time I wear all green to work.' as she and Fay. Sometimes, though it scared me, I settled down opposite the big mirror and, for hours, looked into my own eyes. I never sewed my lips or my labia, but, occasionally, to prove to myself that I could, I pierced them with sewing needles. I had my two arms, but I learned to get through whole days pretending they were gone, not using them, keeping them tucked away behind my back, though sometimes I cheated. I had my eyes, real ones, not crystal ones, but sometimes I kept them closed, for a whole day, and I cheated only rarely. I did not shave my head, but for my sessions of staying still I hid my long dark-blonde not quite golden hair underneath a plain white scarf, and when the hair on my body began to grow, between my legs and underneath my arms, I regularly removed it, with the wax from molten candles. The most important thing to me, though, the essence of my being her, was to be absolutely still, for hours. When I had gotten through a particularly demanding self-imposed task without.
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