‘I must be a mess,’ I said, turning away to get some tissues. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said pulling me back around. ‘As beautiful as ever.�... ‘What-‘ my voice caught in my throat. Our eyes locked. Was he taking advantage of my moment of weakness? Did he mean anything that he said? I wasn’t sure, but I was even less sure that it mattered. I called to him with my eyes and he lowered his lips to mine. The kiss was soft, a soothing balm to the storms of the world. ‘Just hold me,’ I breathed. He. Picking up a lipstick I stared at it amoment, then dropped it back into my toilet bag.Today is not a day for lipstick. Today, as I slip on my heels, I feeldirty, guilty, wrong. I empathise with closet transvestites, compelledto sneak into women's wardrobes and ease the pangs in female clothes.After packing my things ready to check out, I creep into the hotelrestaurant feeling like I'm dirty, unworthy, disgusting. If a scowlingwaiter had directed me to some grim corner, with bare bench. More

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