By: Emily Rudgers
Author's note: This is a bizzare little story I thought up on a car ride. Comments are always read and appreciated! Thanks to djkauf for editing.
My name is Todd… or at least I think it is. It’s getting hard to tell these days. You see, I’ve been plagued with a bizarre phenomenon. My day goes normally, I get up, go to school, come home, do my homework, watch some TV, then go to bed. That’s when everything starts getting weird. Instead of getting sleep with the occasional dream you remember I instead am awake. Or I think I’m awake. I know the world feels all too real to be a part of and that the person I dream I am does actually exist.
I don’t know what causes me to get these special wakeful dreams but I do know when it started. On the night of my sixteenth birthday, after having gorged on cake and homemade lasagna, I found myself crawling in to bed, content, only to have my eyes close and then open again with me as a girl named Erin who lives half way across the country. At first I thought I was having a weird dream, but when I went through an entire day in her life I began to doubt that I was dreaming. The first few months I was riding as a passenger, unable to influence her in any way at all. I had experienced periods, kissing of boys, and the most boring chick flick movies ever to be created. It might sound terrible but after riding through with her for so long it began to become normal. I became used to the way she spoke, moved and interacted with people. On occasion I had to catch myself when I was awake as Todd because I was acting like Erin.
I didn’t realize just how confused my mind was getting on who I was until I found I was able to influence what Erin did. It started small. I had a craving for a smoothie while riding shotgun in her head one night, and then the next thing I knew she was walking up to the counter of a coffee shop a couple blocks away ordering a strawberry smoothie. At first I wasn’t sure that I was the cause of her sudden hankering for a strawberry smoothie until I remembered that she preferred the mango over all others. I played it off as a fluke when I found I couldn’t influence her in any way.
One day while I was standing in the mall with my friends waiting to purchase a movie ticket I glanced up at the choices to verify our choice of time to go see the last action explosion zombie movie was correct. Skimming over the other titles to find my movie I locked eyes on the latest chick flick. It had come out last night I knew even though I couldn’t remember ever seeing an advertisement for it. I forced my vision to continue on to find the movie I was planning on watching. As my bud Marco stepped away from the counter I stepped up to order my ticket.
“Hi.” The girl behind the counter said with the enthusiasm only a minimum wage employee can manage.
I remember that I started talking in response and having a sudden compulsion to see the new drama so when I said that title I thought nothing of it. It wasn’t until I turned to my group of friends who were all staring at me that I began to wonder what was going on.
Marco gave me a strange look, “Dude, what did you get that ticket for? I thought we were going to see some zombies blow up.”
It took me a second to put two and two together and when I looked at my ticket I realized my mistake. I knew at this point I only had one way to play this off and salvage what little dignity I had left. “Did I forget to tell you I’ve got a date so I won’t be able to go into the movie with you all?” They shook their heads as I knew they would, I had no such plans. “My bad, slipped my mind. You know it would rock to go see the movie with you all but the ladies call.”
Several of them gave disappointed looks but it wasn’t long before they decided to let it go. “We’ll see you after the movie, right?”
There was only one answer I could give, “Yeah, see ya after. Let me know how it was.”
While standing in line with a bunch of teenage girls with their moms or friends I found myself the only boy in a sea of estrogen. I didn’t mind so much, after all none of them gave me threatening looks and those who gave strange looks were too intimidated by my temporary neck tattoo making me look like an ex convict to dare say a word. So I’m 16 and still wear temporary tattoos to play up my toughness without going permanent and having mad parents, what of it?
My mind was in a whirl while waiting for the theater to open up. I would never have wanted to see this movie but here I was in line waiting. With how strange my life is I immediately began to question my alternate life dreams. What if this is just like the smoothie fiasco only the girl is trapped in my brain when her body sleeps. I ponder for a moment how the small differences in time zones should make it impossible since we would be awake at the same time some days, but shaking it off as inconsequential when the big thought hits me. What if I lose control? Today it’s only a small issue, an embarrassing one, but still not something I couldn’t get out of. Tomorrow I might find myself buying a skirt like Erin wears all the time. The line to file into the theater starts to move so I abandon my train of thought resolving to not ever let that happen.
Several months passed without any more incidents on either side. One day while sitting day-dreaming in my English class while we were supposed to be taking notes on some dead poet I looked down to see that my notebook was full of beautifully written words. I don’t mean that they were written poetically but that they were written very artistically, girly. The letters were very bubbly and smooth without my usual jaggedness. Afraid that someone would see my notebook I tore the page out of my notebook which earned a disapproving look from my teacher while he continued to babble. I stuffed the page in my pocket and looked around a little conspiratorially before feeling safe that no one saw.
When I got home and I was taking my keys out of pocket I found the page. Standing on my front stoop I unraveled the now thoroughly wrinkled page. I thought initially that they would have been notes on the class like Erin had acted as a diligent student, which she tended to be in her body. I partially collapsed and partly leaned against the door frame as I realized it was a note, for me.
“We need to figure this out before something bad happens and we ruin each other’s life. Text me
Erin”
I walked inside my house and moved quickly towards my bedroom ignoring my mom’s greetings. I closed my bedroom door and threw my book bag on the floor and pull out my cell phone. I’ve spent enough time in Erin’s head to know her phone number, regardless of whether I wanted to or not. What do you say in a situation like this? Hey, sorry for spying on you while I sleep, did you know that those shoes don’t go with that shirt? I shake my head in frustration before settling on keeping it simple.
Todd: Hello?
Erin: Finally, I thought you were going to just ignore me after what I put you through today.
Todd: Today? What was so bad about school then watching TV with your folks last night?
Erin: Oh, you haven’t dreamed today yet then. Sorry in advance :(
Todd: What did you do?
Erin: I’m not sure I should tell, it’s not something a girl talks to a guy about.
Todd: you can’t just leave it at that after that build up
Erin: After I realized that you were really a person, I stopped playing with bits.
Todd: Oh that, I’ve already put you through that so fair is fair I guess
I don’t know why but the thought of experiencing the female side of arousal appealed to me. Call me curious or Erin rubbing off on me but after having experienced a period it didn’t seem all that intimidating.
Erin: I still feel weird, it’s like we’ve had sex but I haven’t even met you
Todd: We can’t just stop our lives because of some crazy brain mix-up every night. Maybe we should promise to live our lives as if the other person isn’t there
Erin: but then I’d be stuck in you as a boy every night. That’s just too much, I like being a girl.
Todd: And I like being a guy, but it’s not like there is anything we can do to stop it.
Erin: True
I hear a light knock from my mom as she opens my door. “Your father isn’t going to be home until late so it’s just you and me for dinner. I was thinking Mexican?”
I’ve always been a fan of Mexican but for some reason I feel more of an interest towards Italian even though we haven’t had Mexican in ages. “Sure, sounds great.” I pick up my phone, angry with Erin, I thought we had just agreed to not mess with each other.
My mom sees my rush to pick up my phone and gets suspicious. “Texting a girl?”
Her happy tone causes me to look up into her eyes, “Yeah, just some girl I met awhile ago that I keep bumping into.” Technically it’s not a lie.
My mom’s glee at me having a potential girlfriend surprises me. “I don’t believe in coincidences, if you keep running into her it must be meant to be.” She ducks out the door quickly to avoid my dirty look.
Todd: I thought we agreed to not influence each other.
Erin: I don’t know what you’re talking about, I didn’t do anything.
Todd: you just tried to get me to eat Italian when I wanted Mexican.
Erin: I had Italian for lunch and it’s planned for dinner at my house, that wasn’t me.
I’m taken aback for a moment. Does that mean there is a third person floating around in my head or that I truly wanted Italian food and just played it off as Erin? Knowing I’ve never dreamt another person the first seems unlikely. That’s when the feeling of being confused really hit home. How can you tell between what it is that you like versus someone else when it feels exactly the same.
Todd: I’m sorry if I pushed you to eat Italian today, just realized I’m hungry for some.
Erin: That’s why I think this whole plot to not affect each other is a terrible idea. We should find a middle ground because otherwise we will feel bad every time we affect each other. It’s hard to live when you’re afraid the other person is the reason you like someone or something.
Todd: yeah I guess. What do you suggest?
Erin: to start, I’ll stop wearing dresses all the time if you’ll stop wearing those baggy jeans and raggedy t-shirts.
Todd: Okay, I can live with that. Can you dial down on the makeup and hair time too.
Erin: But I like looking nice!
Erin: Fine, I’ll try to be quick and simple. But you can’t keep playing those blasted video games all night long.
I look over at my game console that I play now out of boredom more than interest.
Todd: Consider it done, I’ll sell it tomorrow.
Erin: Let’s try this for now, feel free to text me but I think we both have to accept that we sometimes won’t be able to stop ourselves from influencing the other.
Todd: I know, but at least we can be conscientious.
Erin: I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word. You hiding your genius in that brain of yours?
Todd: better than storing it somewhere else
Erin: haha, that’s more what I’m used to hearing from you. See you tonight to…. Talk to myself.
Todd: Yeah, should be interesting, later
I throw my phone on my bed and lose myself in thought. Middle ground, this is either brilliant or an absolutely terrible idea.
That night I experienced what Erin apologized for before she got ready for school. I must admit I like the female experience a lot more. She even had a little extra in every step she took throughout the day.
It was the first day of our altered lifestyles that we learned a very significant lesson. I was wearing a polo shirt and fitting tan pants, something that caused my mother to take my temperature in fear something was wrong with me. I felt out of place in the clothes because they didn’t fit my style. I wasn’t sure what Erin was feeling trapped inside my head until I looked in a mirror with my new look and felt queasy. I had worn something like this before and it always felt a little off to me but something I could easily deal with. The unmistakable horror I was feeling I knew was not my own, even if it felt like it. I looked even more masculine without my baggy t-shirt and the baggy jeans to hide my bulge. I ran upstairs to change immediately. I changed the pants for my usual baggy pants and threw on a hoodie from an obscure band I’d never heard music for. I was relieved by the change I felt even before I looked in the mirror, and it was Erin’s sigh that escaped my lips that let me know she still wasn’t happy but could live with this today.
Otherwise my day went about how it usually would until after I went to bed and had to experience Erin’s attempt to try on clothes outside of her norm. I could sense her being unnerved about wearing jeans to school and kept casting wistful glances towards her dresses. Eventually she steeled herself and did the tight jean dance to pull them all the way up and over her round butt. She picked up a pair of tennis shoes and pulled them on, an item I didn’t even think she owned. Despite her attempt to be a bit less feminine on her lower half her tight t-shirt only accentuated her womanly curves. Looking in the mirror I saw the same Erin I always had only she wasn’t dressed up as much. I suppose it was my ability to see her body as someone else that let me make it through the day with what she picked, where she had failed. I could tell she was uncomfortable, but I felt more at easy now that guys weren’t staring at her legs as much and I didn’t feel the swish of a dress.
It was the next morning that I got a text from her.
Erin: I’m sorry I couldn’t make it with what you chose.
Todd: It’s okay, I dunno if you could tell, but I didn’t like it either.
Erin: I could tell a little. Thanks for making it through with what I wore; I didn’t really like it either.
Todd: I didn’t feel like you were on display as much, which helped me relax, but I could tell you weren’t happy
Erin: I know I suggested middle ground but I’m not sure if this is going to work any better.
Todd: You seemed okay when I dressed androgynously.
Erin: it was better than what you had before but still wasn’t good
Todd: Not much I can do past that
Erin: you could always wear a dress :p
Todd: The goal is not to get BOTH of us beat up
Erin: Oh, yeah… forgot guys can’t dress as freely as girls
Todd: If you’re willing to keep your dressed down look, I’ll try to compromise and grow out my hair and shave more
Erin: your whole body right?
Todd: What?
Erin: arms, legs, armpits, chest, face. You aren’t that hairy to begin with but I think it would help. And no one would see since you wear sweatshirts and jeans so much.
Todd: Fine. But if this goes badly for me you should shave your head.
Erin: HAHA, never going to happen. I know you like my hair, you finger it a lot.
I did a double take of the screen, rereading her text. I very rarely influenced what she did consciously, what if….
Todd: do I influence you much?
Erin: Not a ton, but I feel like it’s a lot more than I influence you. You never have big slip ups like I do, but then your influences always come off girly.
Todd: What do you mean?
Erin: Little things, you play with my hair, make me sit with my feet tucked under me sometimes, talk with my hands a little more. None of them are bad things, just not something I did before you.
Todd: Sorry, I didn’t even realize.
Erin: Really, it’s okay, I figured you didn’t but since they don’t bother me no need to worry. Well other than that you started doing some of them as yourself
I stared at my phone screen and then tried to think how I had changed in how I acted. I couldn’t think of anything but in my self-consciousness I examined how I was sitting and I had my answer. Erin was rubbing off on me, and it wasn’t her mind.
I spent my entire day examining my every motion, word, and interest. By the time I made it to lunch I was scared. I hadn’t realized just how much I had changed. As Erin had said it was the little things mostly but several larger things had somehow been thrown in to the mix. Like when I saw a guy I’ve known since early elementary school and thought him to be attractive, not that my body really reacted to him. The next was looking at a girl I thought drop dead gorgeous only months ago and now I was more interested in examining what she was wearing and how it fitted her. The biggest of them all was when I almost walked into the girls bathroom, thinking it normal after seeing Erin walk into one night after night.
Once I had sat at one of the benches outside away from anyone I might know with my lunch I proceeded to text Erin.
Todd: I’m freaking out a bit about what you said earlier, I’ve changed a lot more than I realized.
Erin: How so?
I sat on the bench for several minutes trying to figure out how to tell or if I should even get specific. After all she’s a girl and I’m still a guy. It’s not like I really had a shot with her or that she would ever run into anyone in my life, I might as well. After I type out my message I re-read it several times before taking the leap and sending it. I await her reply which feels like an eon.
Erin: I know it’s scary but it must mean your adjusting to living with me. I don’t know how it happened so quickly because I don’t feel like I’ve adjusted at all but I would say just ride it out.
Of course she would say that. “Ride it out” yeah right into a fist in my face repeatedly. I let out a frustrated sigh. My phone goes off again and I contemplate just ignoring her unhelpful messages.
Erin: I mean, you seem to get along better living as a girl than I do as a boy. We will rub off on each other but you seem to pick up my habits easier.
Todd: But what does that mean? If I keep this up I’ll end like a freak.
Erin: Try not to worry so much. I know plenty of girls who act that way and are normal.
Todd: Yeah but I’m a guy.
Erin: Until you go to bed, then you’re a girl.
I wanted to have some witty comeback but couldn’t think of anything. Maybe she was right, it’s okay to act like a girl since half the time I am but I have to be mindful when I’m a boy so I don’t act all feminine.
It turns out that is easier said than done. When Erin it was all fine and dandy, I could act however I felt without worry that she wouldn’t act like a girl because there was a enough of her there too to help, but when living as Todd it got difficult. I found myself in a constant state of paranoia. Did I act too girly? Did I act too exaggeratedly macho? Is this thought or action mine or Erin’s? It got to the point that one day I was sitting in my bedroom on my bed doing my homework, or rather Erin doing my homework, that I started to cry. It wasn’t like I had a thought going through my head or saw something sad, I just found slow tears making lines down my face. It took a moment for Erin to snap out of her school mode to realize that her vision was blurry.
I wrapped myself into a self hug and lay down on my bed before I tossed my covers over my head to hide from the world. I felt love and compassion being sent from Erin but all that sank through to my brain was how terribly isolated I felt. I was acting like a girl naturally, being comfortable as a girl every night, and to top it off I was having difficulty telling when I was Erin. You would think it easy to just look at your clothes and know but it wasn’t that simple anymore. Sometimes I would react without thinking and end up saying something really girly. At first people played it off as me joking, but now they were starting to think I was serious because they didn’t laugh. In fact it had become obvious to others of my plight. I was fighting a losing battle against Erin’s femininity. I suppose the femininity was actually mine but it was easier to blame her than accept that my predicament was self imposed.
I was always a fist fighter. How can you fight that way when what you’re fighting isn’t physical. I just wanted to beat out my frustrations at never being able to act like myself without fear of being girly, while hating that being girly was what had become natural. I swirled and swirled round and round skipping dinner and not getting to bed until five in the morning.
When I woke as Erin I felt like my burden had been lifted from me, if only for a little while. We climbed out of bed, donned our clothes, spent a few minutes doing simple makeup and hair styling before meandering downstairs for a normal day of school. We sat with our friends, talked about articles we had read in a magazine, and gossiped about the boys and girls of the school. Classes were a breeze with Erin’s ability to pay attention while I was able to day dream. Once the school was over I nudged her to go to the mall with her friends and wander the shops. She seemed to recognize that I was the source because she said “such a girl” under her breath before calling all her friends to go. We ended up hitting every clothing shop; I even let her try on dresses. Something she seemed to appreciate. In the end we bought little since our allowance wasn’t due until next week, but we made some memories with our friends. It was with a contented smile that we went to bed that night.
I heard my morning alarm go off, and slammed my hand down on it before I rolled over and went back to sleep. I awoke as Erin in the middle of the night as she got up and went to the bathroom before crawling back in bed.
I felt my world shaking as my mother tried to wake me. I felt my covers getting pulled away and I scrunched up to try and stay warm. “Get up this minute; you’re going to be late for school.”
With tired eyes I looked at the clock and saw I had overslept by 45 minutes. I quickly rose and threw on some clothes before I sprinted down the hall past my mom to the bathroom. I heard my phone go off as someone had texted me. I grab my phone on the way out the door and read.
Erin: What’s wrong? You scared me last night. I couldn’t get through to you.
Todd: I was feeling low.
Erin: Next time you feel low, please text me or let me take over. I felt so helpless trapped while you were hurting.
When I decided to ignore her text she became more insistent in her message sending.
Erin: I know you probably blame me but I want to help. I care about you.
Erin: Please don’t shut me out, I want to be there for you.
It was her next text that Erin finally kicked me out of my unwillingness to let her respond to herself.
Erin: I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, but you need to talk to someone.
Todd: Who else can I talk to? No one else would understand.
Erin: Then please let me help.
Todd: Not sure there is any help in this situation.
Erin: :( just remember I’m here if you feel like talking.
I threw my phone deep into my book bag, wanting to be as far from the offending object as possible. During classes that day, Erin didn’t take over, she spent the entire time sending happy thoughts while I did my best to ignore her presence. When we made it to my room after school I collapsed on my bed and proceeded to stare at my ceiling for a while. During my nothingness Erin must have decided to hop into the driver seat because I found myself going through my closet. She put the most masculine clothes on me that I owned. When I looked in the mirror I just collapsed into a ball on the spot. I couldn’t tell if the pain was my own or Erin’s from seeing my own reflection but the fact I wanted to punch the mirror made it clear a part of me was reacting that way.
I sat there for a few minutes crying before I heard my mom get home. The first thing she did, with her special mother ESP, was to head to my room to check in on me. She took one look at me on the floor crying and she immediately moved and wrapped me in a hug. She spoke words of comfort but she didn’t know what I was feeling which only seemed to add to my pain. Why do I keep crying? I shouldn’t let her see me cry. What will she think if I told her what’s going on?
Through all my pain Erin had taken the wheel long enough to get out a few words to my mom. “I don’t… want to be… a girl.” My mom continued to comfort me, completely unfazed by my, er Erin’s words.
When I finally felt like I had no energy left to cry. My mother pulled me back and looked me in the eye. “I will always love you. No matter what.” With her words I found new energy to cry as the tears started anew.
When I ran out of tears she continued to hold me for a minute. I pulled back from her embrace and gave her a sad smile. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. Do you want to talk about it?” she probes tentatively.
I start to form an emphatic no in my mouth but Erin kicks in, “yeah.” I mentally curse her but as my mom looks at me expectantly I realize I’m in for the long haul now. “Sometimes I act really girly, and I don’t know if that’s me or someone else.”
My mom contemplates my words for only a brief moment. “If you naturally act or say something then I’d say it’s a part of you.”
I hang my head at her words. Why can’t I just blame Erin for all this, then I don’t have to feel like a freak. “What if I don’t want it to be a part of me? What if I feel like it’s going to ruin my life?”
She pursues her lips, “It’s important to be yourself; otherwise you’ll have to fight yourself every day. No one should have to live like that.”
“Even if you’ll hate me for it?”
“I could never hate you, you’re my baby.” She says with a motherly smile.
Timidly I bring up a thought that I was actively trying to not give strength by admitting its existence. “Even if I was a girl?” It’s Erin who causes me to gasp and cover my mouth.
My mother takes my action at being surprised at my own words. “Hey, it’s okay. I would love you just the same, girl or boy.”
I feel a small smile creep up at the corner of my mouth. “Thanks, mom.”
“I didn’t tell you anything that you shouldn’t already know.”
Two Years Later
“Erin get out of bed, you’re going to be late for school on your first day of senior year!”
I leap out of bed happy. Today is my first day of school after having my SRS! Ever since I had started living as a girl I found Erin and me becoming almost the same person. We finally felt free to influence each other whenever since we had become so comfortable as each other. Throughout most of our days the only way we could tell who was who was when we looked in the mirror. So you can see now why it’s gotten difficult to tell who was born Todd and who was Erin because now we’re the same person.
Comments
That's a really original take
I've read a lot of stories, and I don't think I've seen anything quite like this. Subtle. I like it a lot. :)
thanks
Thank you! I'm glad it comes off as unique.
very good!
hmm .... wonder if there's another girl named Dorothy out there who's habits I've been picking up?
Possibly
You never know, there very well could be!
I Feel Very Strongly Both Ways
There were times that I thought the original Erin was a different person in a different place. There were times I felt Erin was just the inner person trying to come out. Were the texting messages just a way that the inner person could communicate with the outer person? Were the telephone tones just imagined so that the inner personality was freed to communicate in real time? More and more I feel this was just a struggle between the inner real person and the outer constructed facade. I guess the last line confirms my feeling. Nice story.
Portia
I was right there with you.
I was thinking the same thing when I first started writing this story. It wasn't until I made it to the compromise texting sequence that my muse made it clear what was going. Some may choose to take this at face value with two different people living in different places who learned to operate as one. Others may read into meanings to thinking that they were always the same person. That's the beauty of reading, you can interpret the story however you wish :)
Thanks for the awesome comment!
Emily
At first, I thought that Erin
and Todd were twins sharing a psychic link, Now I see that they are the same person.
May Your Light Forever Shine
Good idea
The psychic link idea sounds like it could be fun. Thanks for the comment!
Emily
OMG
OMG! Obviously, you deserve warm and lovely compliments for such an original story. Also, since there are so many ways you could go with the initial premise, and then so many 'alternate worlds' ideas you could branch off with at almost every step, the possibilities are almost endless. Yet you steered a safe course through those choices and produced a short story with exactly the feeling and soul to it that needed to be told.
A person is really a writer, IMHO, not because they have a gift with vocabulary or are clever with symbolism or plotting or so on. The one, the most, defining thing that separates writers from others is that a writer has to write that story that their mind is creating. It really seems clear when we read this that you had to tell the story and this is the story you had to tell.
So, even more than the originality of the ideas you uses here, your gift most to be treasured is that combination of unique, creative spark plus unavoidable need to write it down.
Most of us do write or try to write, whether published, self-published, or unpublished, are missing that unique drive In contrast, my own writing so far I don't publish here or anywhere. Because it starts with an idea that solves the particular problem(s) of how could someone tell such-and-such, or with one or more characters who try to have a voice, and maybe a scenario the character(s) is put into by life. There's a whole lot of, "ah this would be a fun or clever way to try to do this", but very, very little of, "I've had this vision and it must be written down".
Good story, by the way. I bet you have a great number of people who like the story, regardless of whether they post a comment or click 'Good story!'. You really do leave us wanting a lot more of such a new world that has such people in it. And more of Erin/Todd and her friend Erin and their very special relationship. Dreaming Reality does seem best told as a short, but one hopes you have more to share with us that is set in that world.
Congratulations and thank you, Miss Rudgers.
Oh, the OMG that begins my little post is a way of pointing out that you had the option to get all cutesy with a deluge of texting abbreviations and shortcuts to establish that these characters really are teenagers. It was better not to, for several kinds of reasons, so thanks for that choice. Truer to your characters. Not every teen in the world is a caricature straight out of the latest made-for-TV movies. (No TV pun intended.)
Annie
Sorry for always being so long winded, it's the brain damage and can't be helped.
P.S. I've read way too many years worth of TG fiction, and yes have seen a couple of stories years ago that used relatively similar ideas of some kind of unexplained and seemingly random psychic link. Similar, but not similar enough to this that anyone should think your idea is one bit less original. :-))
Wow
Comments like yours are an awesome motivation to write! I find myself reading, re-reading, and then re-re-reading your "long winded" message and it still puts a smile on my face.
I don't know if I'll end up adding to this world but I am a slave to my muse. Whatever she says goes. Hopefully she'll let me explore the endless possibilities at some point.
Thanks!
Emily
Slave to your muse?
Why you kinky thing, LOL. :-)
It seems like too many of us are too stingy in life with our support, friendship, compliments, and so on. What are we saving it for? Quick, share it now while it can still do some good in the world. I try to be supportive without being gushy. Replies like yours make it very rewarding in return, so thanks.
-Annie