I’d developed a mild obsession with bathroom scales. The person who looked out through my eyes had become a woman called Clarissa. But wholly and un...quivocally a woman? Of course not. The changes I’d undergone proved that body, attitudes, behaviour and speech could be reshaped in a few months, but I had no uterus or ovaries and my brain hadn’t been rewired. Conditioned to femininity though it was, the brain still had male connections. I retained my prostate gland, too, though the doctors told. "Monica?" Angela called out, not too loudly, and she turned to the left and walked down a hallway."Who's that?" I heard a woman's voice and a light came on in what must have been a bedroom at the far end of the trailer. "Who's there?" It's me," Angela said in a comfortable voice, as if she'd just stepped out for a pack of smokes. I'd remained near the front door, looking around in the darkness and seeing what looked like a pretty well lived in home."Angela?" The woman sounded happy but confused. More

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