The one who'd done this to him.(don't blame HER, you lousy chickenshit faggot! YOUdid this to YOURSELF)Danny stood up, shaking his head in denial. No,...thiswasn't his fault. He was the victim of some vicious,malign joke. The Gipsy must have taken advantage ofhis drunken state, erasing his masculinity out ofsheer cruelty. What other explanation was there? Hehadn't walked into the antique store asking for asex-change. What man in his right mind would?Granted, he had residual memories of making. He closed his eyes and was snoring in minutes.I watched him sleep. Yes, I still loved him. But in the way that I knew it was back then, in it's place. My priorities had changed the night he attacked me.Ten seconds.That's what he gave me to get down the stairs and out the door or he would kill me. That was his offer. I'd caled the police when we struggled. He had tossed the phone out of the window and locked it. But they had turned up, just as I was heading past his house and back down the. More

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