She wasgetting used to them. No, that wasn't right; she'd never get used tothem. But she was learning how to keep on going, in the face of quietdisapp...oval. With a deep sigh, she reflected that this was supposed to bea celebration, not a pity party. But it was hard to feel celebratory whenthe only birthday card that you got was from the son who still felt thatyou'd somehow killed his father when you came out as a transsexual. Therehadn't been any explicitly obscene words in the card, but the. He’s a nice enough fellow but he should know better but now that you’re here, I see no sense in not helping you, even though I probably shouldn’t. Secondly, you most certainly do not have appendicitis.’ ‘Are you certain? It certainly feels like my appendix.’ ‘But that doesn’t mean that that is the problem. You have a car don’t you?’ ‘Of course I do. I drove here from Chicago.’ ‘It has a ‘check engine’ light, doesn’t it?’ ‘Well yes, it does.’ ‘When the light comes on, it doesn’t mean that there. It is late summer in Sydney and still warm luckily, you and your husband have had a long day in town, dealing with business and personal matters, but sadly nothing spicy or truly fun to brighten it all. You reach home in the later afternoon, park your car, and you both need a drink to recover your strength and to aid relaxation. It has been a longish day! Firstly, though, you both need to change from your warm, formal clothing into something a lot lighter, to enjoy the evening, all this before. Seated at the small cluttered desk, the lithe officer rifled through the wad of paperwork unceremoniously dumped in her In-tray before picking out the thick stapled file; scanning it carefully with a practiced eye. Satisfied, she signed off on the weekly crew rostering; making a few short amendments in red before consigning the document to the metal tray on the far corner of the desk. She reached for the ceramic coffee mug; sipping its contents and finding them cold. Wrinkling her nose, she.
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