The Giver and the Gifts

Men sensitive enough to see will know The holiness of breasts, for the haloes Of their pink areolas clearly show The glory upon them which God bestows, But 'tis a blind fool who mistakes the breasts For the fullness of feminine beauty, Fav'ring them, while excluding all the rest, Though her other charms may be more lovely, Especially when she's transsexual, And the dainty ornaments of penis And testicles, completing her, make full The bounty of her beauty and the bliss She has in store for those men who want more Than either sex, by itself, can explore.

This time, Brad didn't take his hands off the wheel. He didn't applaud, either. He said nothing, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

Tears sprang to my eyes, not as a result of the wind that blew past us and into my face, but from the pain and the grief that rose inside me, bitter and intense--the agony of rejection, which I'd known so many times since--well, just since, that's all. He'd take me home now, if I were lucky. Otherwise, he might just stop and tell me to get out of his car and to stay the hell out of his life.

A tear trickled from my eye. I felt it course down my cheek, warm and wet and drying, already, in the rush of the warm wind that swept over and around the convertible.

On the left, beyond the narrow shoulder of the high road, the mountainside fell away, in a sheer cliff that showed the dim stars rising in the near-darkness of the gathering night and the lights of distant town, glittering upon the valley floor, far below. On the right, the mountainside continued to rise, almost vertically, and trees, growing almost horizontally from the craggy face of the cliff, writhed in the wind. The road, reduced by the landscape's contours to two constricted lanes, hugged the mountain, spiraling up, up, up, above the darkening quilt of the land spread out below the clouds drifting above, hazy in the glow of a full moon. There was no place to go but up. The road, at this point, featured neither a turnout, a scenic overlook, nor a place wide enough--or safe enough--in which Brad could execute a "U" turn.