His shoulder length blond hair was being tossed about by a light breeze. He wore cowboy boots, blue jeans, and a denim shirt. Over these were a duster...also being tossed about by the wind. Crossing his back was the empty holster for a rifle and a sheathed katana. The rifle for the holster was held in his left hand. His finger was on the trigger, though at the moment the rifle was pointed toward the ground. The man's face was unlined, yet there was an aura of age about him. It was his eyes. ."He kept waiting me out.I kept sobbing while I talked."All my dreams are gay?...and I'm the, the, the one onthe...bottom...that I'm the woman?...I mean, I don't wear, I've...I'venever worn clothes...like that, and...how could your software interpretme that way?...and...but...I'm not, you know...I'M NOT GAY!"Greg eyes softened."What if you are?"I stared at him, stunned."What?" What if you are gay?" he asked. "Would that be so bad?"I shook my head, and cried a little bit more."No, of course. More

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