If God Has Nothing Better To Do

Clothing Left On The Bed Unfolded. Books Stained With Coffee Spots. Tabs Not Paid Until The Last Possible Second. Boys Kissed And Then Forgotten In A Week’s Time.

No One Had Ever Said Anything Like That To Evie. Her Parents Always Wanted To Advise Or Instruct Or Command. They Were Good People, But They Needed The World To Bend To Them, To Fit Into Their Order Of Things. Evie Had Never Really Quite Fit, And When She Tried, She’d Just Pop Back Out, Like A Doll Squeezed Into A Too-small Box.

Please, I'm A Transgender Former Boy-bander. You Think I Don't Know How To Defend Myself?

The Man In The Shop Peered Disapprovingly At Evie Through The Glass. She Pumped Her Arms And Legs Up And Down In Imitation Of A Marching Band, Gave The Man A Salute, And Continued Her Meandering Walk To The Museum.

We All Walk In A Land Of Dreams. For What Are We But Atoms And Hope, A Handful Of Stardust And Sinew? We Are Weary Travelers Trying To Find Our Way Home On A Road That Never Ends. Am I A Part Of Your Dream? Or Are You But A Part Of Mine?