Gliding through the City of Dreams

I’d taken great care with my appearance. No stubble, no cleavage, clothing loose and comfortable but not baggy. No pastel shades. Sensible shoes. My hair, short and dark, was going through a wavy phase, but I’d not let it get so long as to let it curl.

Before I left the house, I checked myself out in the full-length mirror in the hallway, by the stairs. Definitely sexy, definitely enticing and even I couldn’t tell if the face looking back at me was a boy or a girl.

Smiling, I stepped out into the cool Manchester evening.


The city throbbed outside, but I wasn’t interested in that. I was interested in her. She glided towards me from the bar, cocktail in hand, elegant sky-blue summer dress flowing down her body, showing off every inch of her perfect legs. Hair, darker and longer than mine, framed the startling beauty of her face.

“I’m H,” I said, as she sat down opposite me.

“Pauline,” she said. She shook her head, “Are you a boy or a girl?”

“Oh yes.” The night was just beginning.

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