Anger kills pain, pain kills kindness, kindness kills strength and strength kills anger.

Dreaming builds ambition, ambition builds power, power builds pride and pride builds death.

Ancient sayings.

It is now winter, between January and February. It has been over an year since we are together and since Alia - Atan got the citizenship. We live together in this remote village, at the End Of The World. But I see some pain in his eyes. I know where it comes. From his parents. For a long time, they cried and prayed for many hours that he will leave me behind and return home. I seen them only once in my life... and they tried to attack me. I am not angry on them and I never been. I wish this could be solved in a better way. His parents will never accept that their son is married with me, with a poor girl (compared with them), with a smoker and a witch. For a long time, I sent them messages every a few days, telling them things from our daily life. I hoped this will, at least, show them that he is ok. All I got from this, was a lot of ugly words and curses. Then, at some point, they said that they no longer recognize him as their son. And ever since, they never sent any response message. About every 15 days, I continued to send them news from our daily life. No answer. Just like they died. Then, recently, I received a message, a small one:

Don't call us ever again. You are both dead in our eyes.

I laughed. I usually don't put much heart into things like this... anyway, they are not my parents. For Alia - Atan, this was a huge shock. He needed time to recover. He even cried. I understand him. I would have cried too, but my parents will never do such a thing to me. Without me, he is completely alone now. I tried to make him closer to my family. Unfortunately, I need to stay close to the railway station, but I invited my parents many times in the evening. Even my sisters came often to us. A few times, he went to my parents alone. They are friendly with him and by now they really have nothing that inside the village he dresses like a woman. Nobody has anything against him. Well, some people make jokes about this, but it is not a problem for him. He is now fully integrated in our way of life. He also laughs at their jokes and makes his own. However, I feel that making my parents get closer to him, is not what he wants. What should I do? I have a talk with my sister Cemis and she comes with an idea. We should go for a little trip. So, I talk with Alia - Atan about this and he accepts. We will go to the Land Of The Plains, where the nomads live. And when he gets a free day from work, we go. Cemis agrees to stay at the railway station for us. I make the preparations for this.

We depart with the 3 AM train. I am dressed as a woman, but Atan dresses like a man. He needs to be like this for when we will cross the border. A man dressed like a woman will be suspicious for anyone. It is better this way. The train consists of a diesel engine, a wagon for passengers and 30 cargo wagons, filled with coal. It is all dark outside. We can see nothing. Inside the wagon, there is no light. People want to be like this, so they can take a nap. The train is struggling not to derail, with all its cargo. These trains are literally crying, screaming and trembling on the rails. Inside, you are pushed up, down or sideways, even at their speed which rarely increases over 20 km/h. When your eyes adapt to the dark, you can see contour of the mountains and a few other things out on the window. When you approach a village, at this hour, you almost see nothing. There is no street light and people close their lights during night. It is too expensive. Stations come one after the other: Almathea, Adrastea, Themisto, Leda, Himalia, Elara, Carpo and Metis. At each station, more people climb aboard. I hear their voices, but cannot see their faces in the dark. Some are talking, some are smoking, but most of them are sleeping. The only light you see from time to time, comes from the controller, who takes money and cuts tickets to passengers. He has a small lantern. Almost all wooden benches are occupied by people and a lot of boxes are now placed between and under benches. Since we almost have no roads, the train has to take all passenger and cargo traffic. It is vital for us that trains will continue to move.

Finally, Jupiter station arrives, with its red and cracked walls. It is dark outside. People step out of the train and walk on the snow and ice outside. Other trains arrive here too, from other valleys. The place becomes crowded, not only with people, but mainly with the boxes, baskets and bags they carry. Two men fight to upload some furniture in a train, while a few women download plastic bags with cheese. Trade starts from here. Some staff doesn't even go to the market. Well, we hurry to our next train, which will take us over the border, to the Land Of The Plains. I know the way. We go to the train and check our regional passports when we get in. It is not a long journey.

Both capitals are close. Between them, there is a large river. And just after we cross the border, we see Chiron station, where the thermal plant is located. Here is burned all our coal. In past, there were nomads here, but now they live in towns and villages. They are richer then us, but not by far. Their trains have the same age, but are more repaired. Their railways allow trains to pass with 40 to 60 km/h. Railways are dominant here too, but they also have roads. Well, their roads are full with holes, anyway. Our land and their land are strongly connected, economically.

It is morning when we arrive at Saturn, their capital. The station is yellow. We step out of the train and find an officer to sign our regional passports. Then, we hurry to a stationed train, where Atan can become Alia. Dressed so, we move out from the station.

We avoided to dress completely in green or to get dressed the same, so that people will just consider us two women passing by. Also, we had to consider that it is winter here. It is a bit hotter then in the mountains, but still cold. We layered a few clothes on us. On top, I have a black, long winter coat, that covers a green sweater. My hands are covered with red gloves. I have a black knee-long dress and I wear the green thigh boots, that rise higher then where my skirt ends. Alia - Atan insisted me to wear them, but he already knows that beneath them, I have black opaque pantyhose covered with leggings. Hope this will keep me warm enough. Alia is dressed with an artificial fur white long winter coat, that covers a pink sweater. His hands are covered with black gloves. He has a brown knee-long skirt. Just like me, he has green thigh boots. Beneath them, I know that he has brown opaque tights, covered with leggings. Also, since we are in a Muslim area, we cover our heads with a hijab. Then, I apply him a light tone of lipstick and little make-up. First, he used too much make-up and in strident colors. Now, he no longer does this, but still I like to do him the make-up. As a woman, you have to be soft and gentle, not to transform yourself into a porn star.

We start walking on the streets. At first, we walk hand by hand, but then I tell him:

"We have to walk like two women. I don't want people to think we are lesbians".

We move forward. Not far from here, there is a park, with a small lake in its middle. Now the lake is frozen and people use it to dance on ice. We find a bench where snow has been removed and we eat the food I packed from home. Then, we both light a cigarette.

"Just over there is the high school where I went", I tell him.

"This far?" he asks. "Was no high school in Jupiter?"

"Yes, there was. But I am a sfenist", I answer, while both smoke and steam get out of my mouth. "I wanted out. I wanted to rebuild my life somehow".

"It must have been hard to go this far", he says. "You crossed a border, after all".

"I did. But Abida was also at high school and she was in some problems. My parents don't have much money, so I had to find a way", I say, then take the cigarette to my mouth.

"I know what solution you found", he says, showing me his cigarette.

"Yes", I say. "In the morning I was at school, in the evening I used to sell cigarettes. Then, I started to sell tobacco leaves". I take some smoke inside me, hold it for two seconds, then blow it out. "I carried sacks of tobacco leaves on these trains, about twice a week. It was risky, but funny".

"Wow, Nicotiana! How many things you've been through... Contraband from such an age..." he whispers.

"What did you expect me to do? Cry?" I say, as another cloud of smoke gets out of my body. "The worst of everything is to cry. You just have to keep on fighting. And if you cannot fight, retreat, regroup and find another option".

I notice he looks at my boots. I look at his, thinking about the layered encasement inside them.

"I've seen a dog that lost one foot", he says.

"In an accident?" I ask, taking the cigarette to my lips.

"No".

"Was shot?"

"No. He had an infection and the doctors removed the foot", he says.

"What? They operated a dog?" I say surprised, so surprised that ash falls from my cigarette to my skirt. "Well, at how rich people are in the Civilized World, it is not a surprise".

"Well", he continues, "the point is that, even without a foot, the dog tried to live its life, like nothing happen. Yes, he had problems while moving, but he just ignored anything".

"Well, that is something from what we have to learn", I say. "And mainly you".

I see his eyes opening a bit more then usual and a small movement on his face, below his make-up. He takes the cigarette and puts it between his lips, covered with lipstick. I instinctively take another inhale. Then, as he removes the cigarette, he says:

"I think you are referring to my parents".

"Not to them, but the example with the dog can be good even for your problem".

He moves one foot over the other, whispering: "Nicotiana..." I feel the sadness inside him.

"Just wait", he says in the end. "Just wait, one day or another, they will change. This phase cannot last forever. I've seen this. I've seen parents that closed any ties with their children because they married someone they were not allowed to. And I've seen parents that came and bitten the unwanted partner of their child. Not only once, many times. Things change when a child is born, but not completely. Usually, they accept new children, but strongly indoctrinate them with hate against their unwanted parent. And in many cases, children grow with that hate. Believe me, it is the best that they are too far away from us. If they were here, our lives would have been a nightmare". Then, he takes another puff and says: "In the end, after 10 or 20 years, they accept all and no longer fight. They sometimes come alone to their children's families".

Something hit me like a bomb. He said about children. Well, like any woman, I want to have children, but as a sfenist, how could I? It is almost impossible for a sfenist to have a child.

"Do you want a child?" I ask.

He looks at me surprised.

"Me? I never thought about this. I really don't know. Do you?"

"What else is the purpose of life?" I ask him. "At some point, it will have to happen".

He takes one hand and puts it on my knee, feeling the boot, like trying to feel the pantyhose layered beneath.

"I don't know if it is possible", he says.

"I also don't know", I answer. "Maybe, for you it is easy, to produce some fluid, but for me, to insert them in my body, I don't know if I am ready. One day I will be, I hope".

As saying this, I take the last two drags of smoke. All this time has passed and he never thought about a child? I never expected this. Are we a family or what? Well, for any other people, it is so easy to make a child, but for a sfenist, it is a completely different story. It might not even be possible at all, to do it in the natural way. I never even dared to think about that. An artificial method should be the only way. Hope that time will come sooner or later.

"Don't worry, Nicotiana", he says. "One day, we will try it. But not now, not yet. We are sfenists and we both know what this means. It took us an year until we could masturbate in the same room, but to get to the point of making a child, we have a long path to go. I just hope that, until next year, we will be ready. But even if this will not be possible, we still have each other".

"Do you think it will be possible?" I ask him.

"I don't know, but I hope".

"Hope is the serpent that slowly kills whatever remains alive", I say.

"No, Nicotiana", he answers to me. "Hope dies the last and hope keeps us going".

"Hope dies the last, because by then, everything is dead", I answer him, as I light another cigarette. "Hope is the serpent. Don't you know the legend?"

"I do", he answers. "You told me".

Legend Of The Snake is about a woman that had a husband and a son. Both went to war, but in fact fall in love with a witch and her daughter. At some point, the woman found out where her husband and her son are. The witch could not kill her, but instead made her suffer more then ever. So, the witch made a spell and a snake appeared. The snake came to the woman, to torture her over and over. The snake was whispering in her ears: 'your husband and your son will return one day', but in fact they never returned. Slowly, the snake made her suffer until she died. In my language, we have two different words for hope, that can be translated as good hope (hope for something that can become reality and will be a good thing) and bad hope (for something that cannot become truth or if it can become, it will harm). Also, in the end, the witch killed both the father and the son.

"Just like that infidel that tried to fuck Junit", I say, with a smile in my face.

"Who?" he asks. "Ah, I remember. The one in the bar, that I tore his hair".

"Yes, that one", I answer, laughing. "What a jerk! Well, this is how males with too much testosterone end-up. Pathetic".

"I heard he died", he says.

"Yes, Alia", I answer. "He tried to take the hand of a woman, possibly even rape her. But her husband was home and... you know what happened".

"I know. And I also know Junit went recently to our house".

"Yes, she did", I answer with a happy smile. "I told her to never feel sorry for that infidel. And I also learned her to smoke" I say, taking a big, satisfied dose of nicotine.

"Can anyone survive around you without starting to smoke?" he asks.

"No", I answer short. "And will never do. After all, smoking is a good thing. What do you say, now, after an year of smoking? Do you regret that you started?"

"No", he says. "I only regret that I didn't start earlier".

We both take a smoke inhale.

"What I don't like is that people kill each other in these mountains. And nobody does anything", he says.

"Is that a problem?" I ask, looking in his eyes. "As long as they don't try to kill you, what do you have with them?"

"Yes, there is a problem", he says. "You know what happened during Orthodox Christmas Day. Two miners got drunk and started to beat each other. It was a nightmare on the train. Some were so drunk, that they stepped out in the wrong stations. But what amazed me is that people just ignored them".

"And you know that in that particular day a train derailed because the engineer was too drunk. Come on, that is drinking day. Everyone knows".

"Yes, but I think this is too much. Well, nobody attacked me in the train or at the mine. I guess that is all what matters".

"Yes, that's all what matters", I answer. "By the time we were home and finishing eating, some drunk miners came to their homes and started to beat their wives and children. Oh, I hate alcohol. Smoking cannot do anything bad, but alcohol has absolutely nothing good in it". I take a dose of smoke, then blow it away. "Alcohol is the blood of Satan. Well, I know that most popes and priests will argue the opposite, but there is a catch. At least in Orthodox Church, people receive a small spoon with bread and wine, symbolizing the blood and flesh of god Jesus. You hear this? Only a small spoon. And I agree that that spoon really contains what they say. But, come on! What is a spoon and what is a bottle? Do you think drinking a bottle of wine will bring you closes to god Jesus? No, it will bring you closer to hell".

"I completely agree with you", he says. "Alcohol is good for nothing".

As it is getting cold, we start walking again, on the snow-covered streets. We are Muslim women, walking on the street. All other women look the same, with winter coats and a hijab. Nobody bothers with us. People come and go, to wherever they go, passing close to us. We keep on walking and reach the main street. No vehicles are allowed here, only people. They walk in all directions, they look at the many shops around, smoke and talk. Children are happy and play with snow. We stay for a bit here, enjoying to see some children playing in the snow. Alia seems to be even more happy then me. Then, as we feel the cold entering our bodies, we go to a place.

Once we enter, I immediately notice something. It is a hookah! I don't even look around, just go to it and take a sit, inviting Alia near me.

"Is it functional?" I ask.

"Yes", says the barman, coming to me. "How much do you want?"

"Make it long", I say.

"Ok. What flavor do you want?"

"Something sweet, if you have. Just make it last as long as possible".

The barman starts working on it. You can bring me the best clothes, the most refined food in the world and probably 10 tons of gold, nothing will work better like smoking.

"Nicotiana, calm down!" says Alia, looking at me. "People will say you're crazy".

"It is their problem. I know what I want".

"Nicotiana?" says the barman.

"Yes, that's my name. Nicotiana Ana", I answer.

This makes him laugh, but I don't care. Well, it takes a bit and the hookah is ready. I take a lustful deep inhale, until I feel my chest filled to maximum. A cloud of smoke gets out of my nostrils, while I take another inhale. Alia tests the smoke, takes a small inhale, then another one. I think he likes it too. How much time passed since I last smoked like this?

We both sit here, on a coach, smoking through tubes. In the room, there is also a TV set, pointed to a news channel. The news are like always: car accidents which always happens, a derailed train which is something usual, husband kills wife, wife burns house of husband's lover, children disappearing, economical crisis continuing (as it has been ever since), bridge falls over a horse, someone killed for stealing cattle... only things like this. If you watch this staff, it will get you in a state of addiction and thinking the world will end soon. Well, not for me. Alia - Atan told me that anywhere in the world you see news like this. So, it is normal. It is normal that from a million people someone will kill someone, even if this is far more frequent here. Then comes something very interesting, about a bomb attack in the Land Of Dictators, resulting with a few deaths and much more injured The attack was caused by Sanders. This is interesting, because a group of Sanders crossed our village a few weeks ago. They went over the mountains. At that time I suspected they wanted to reach the Land Of Dictators, but had no idea what they are up to... if they ever survived climbing the mountains in winter. Why didn't they dress like everyone and travel by train? With all boxes that transit on these trains, you can probably pass even nukes, if you are smart enough.

Well, soon the hookah ends and we leave. We go to another park, much larger. Here, we reach an alley where there is almost nobody. We light a cigarette and step on a bench.

"Sanders in the Land Of Dictators?" whispers Alia. "Are not them those we seen?"

"I don't know, but they could be".

"Oh mine, this place is more dangerous then death itself", he says. "I was surprised how polite they were. Really surprised me".

"What did you expect?" I say. "What I don't understand is why didn't they take the train. Wasn't it more easy then climbing the mountains?"

"Well, as you told me. It is their problem. And as long as it doesn't interfere with us, I have nothing against them. May them blow-up the whole world!"

I laugh at this. Also, I make a bubble of gum. "Like this!" I say. Then, I take smoke in me and blow it in the air. "You need to be a bit crazy, if you want to survive here. But relax, they will come and go, not hurt us. I mean, we are far too poor for them".

"Those railway bridges are collapsing anyway, no need for a bomb", he says, while also blowing some smoke.

We both laugh, even if I have something sad in my eyes. These railways, even as damaged as they are, are vital for us.

"Better take an airplane and jump into a sky-scrapper", I say.

"Nicotiana", he says, looking at me without any smile. "Where were you when those airplanes hit the Tween Towers?"

"I was at my parents' house, in the kitchen", I say. "I remember the evening very well. The TV was on. I was doing my homework and also I was smoking. My sisters and my brother were there too. I clearly remember that Cemis was near me. She needed help at her homework. Then, we seen on the TV. It was on mute. Well, Abida seen it first and said: 'What a stupid pilot! It ran into a building!' not realizing what is happening. Then, we watched and Cemis said: 'Change it, I don't like action movies'. At that time, we only had 4 programs on TV. But on all, it was the same".

"At that moment you realized it was true?" he asks.

"No. I just concluded it is a commercial for a new movie. I got upset that it is not ending. Then, we started to watch, but Abida says at some point: 'Where are the good guys?' she was expecting Superman to come and save people from the towers. Still, for a few days, I believed it is a movie. And so did many people. It took two weeks for my parents to believe it. Many people did not believe it to be real".

"This is how people took it?"

"Everybody thought it is a joke. I mean, who could do such a thing? And even if it were real, why nobody opened fire at those airplanes? Better kill 50 people in an airplane then 5000 in a building, plus the passengers". I play a bit with my cigarette, take a smoke, then continue. "People were so convinced that it is a fake, that children started to play with toy airplanes, made of wood, to impact trees and objects. And when we got convinced it is true, people started to laugh. What everyone said is 'How stupid could they be, not to shoot those airplanes before?' or 'How stupid are they, not to see this coming?' People, going to chop a tree, used to say 'I go to cut down a few sky-scrappers' and laughed. Nobody realized that so many people died there. People here are not for or against any part of the Civilized World, they just don't care. Only that they see it as a paradise".

"Damn paradise! Thousands of people died in those sky-scrappers".

"Well, I told you how people seen it here. How did you?"

"Well, I returned from school, I was learning in evening at that time. I went from my room, where I was doing homework, to my dad, to ask him something. And I seen it. I believed it from the first moment and watched how the second plane hits a building. I watched until my parents urged me to go back to learning. Then, in the morning, I could not remember if it were real or not".

"Did people believe it?"

"Yes, from the first moment. Some thought for a few minutes or hours that it is a movie".

"People here still laugh and make jokes of this. Not because they love or hate the Civilized World, but because leaders of the Civilized World could not see this coming... and so, appear far more stupid then makes sense".

"But I've seen people celebrating the attack, in the Muslim World", he says.

"Alia, come on. It all is about brainwashing there. Here, nobody celebrated anything. Boys have a game: they throw with stones to a target. And at that time, they called their stones 'airplanes' and their targets 'sky-scrappers'. Land Of Fire is not too far from us and I know what is going on there, if you want extremists and brainwashed people".

We start walking again. This time, we take another route, along a street with concrete blocks of flats. We slowly move back to the railway station. As we move, other people come and go. Again, nobody has any idea that Alia is in fact a man. For everyone, we are two women walking on the street. But, when we reach the railway station, I realize he must change.

I take a different approach, maybe a risky one. There is a river nearby. So, I advice that we go there. Sometimes people go under the bridge to take a piss, so it won't be surprising. We go there and he changes clothes. Well, he just takes off the skirt and replaces it with trousers, letting the thigh boots remain hidden beneath. He takes out the gloves and the hijab, then we change our coats, because his is a bit too feminine. Then, he takes out the fake breasts. Yes, he has a pink sweater, that definitely is feminine, but the coat will hide it. We put all in a plastic bag and take it with us. We move back to surface, where a guy sees us and says:

"Where is the other girl?"

"She is dead, below the bridge. Go and find her!" I answer, as he really goes down.

"Why do men have to be so stupid?" I say.

"Because some of them need to be castrated", answers Atan.

We return to the railway station, then we take the train over the border, back to Jupiter. And from there, we have our own train back. Only that, this time, Atan changes fast, as there is nobody in the wagon. He is back Alia. And we will travel like this all the way home. We are back traveling with our old, rusted train.

"There is nowhere better then home", I say.

"Yes. Back to home with us".

"Hope Cemis made some fire. If not, all will be freezing in here".

"Nicotiana", he says, "thank you".

"For what?"

"For what you.ve done to me".

"What exactly?"

"Well, you know I suffer for my parents", he says. "But now, something cured me. I mean, just look around. People die in these mountains everywhere. You know what is going on in the Land Of Fire, how people are crucified there. Even in the Civilized World you are not safe. Just think about those airplanes that hit sky-scrappers. Well, this is the cure I needed".

"What? To see an airplane impacting a building?" I say, laughing at the idea.

"No. What really helps is to see how much other people are suffering. At that point, you see that your pain is nothing. My parents have abandoned me. I don't accuse them, maybe I deserve it, maybe they also deserve what happened to them. But still, I lost nothing compared to others. I am alive, I am healthy, probably my parents are also in one piece. We have a home, we have what to eat, we are not sick... But, more then anything, we have one each other. And that is the most important thing in the all known Universe".

These words amaze me. Yes, this is the most important thing in the all known Universe: that we are together and there is no force able to separate us.

The evening train arrives to our home. We jump down. Cemis did a great job at the station and she even tried to remove some of the snow. I thank her for the help, then we hurry to the house, to see what need to be done. There is a little fire in the kitchen, but nothing in the house. We eat, then go to the house.

"Do you really think that one day we will have children?" I ask him.

"Limits are an illusion of our mind", he answer. "Isn't it one of our ancient sayings?"

'Our?' I ask myself. This means his assimilation is complete. He now considers himself one of us, speaks the same language and shares the same unwritten law.

"Yes, it is part of our saying", I say, while also lighting a cigarette.

"Based on what happened since we are together", he says, "I think it is possible that, in some time, we will be able to have a child. But it's going to be a very long road to this".

He goes and puts some small branches on the fire, then larger ones. It is cold here, since nobody made a fire today. Steam gets out of our mouths. As he sits now, I clearly see his back and his boots. Then, he returns near me.

"It is too cold", I say. "But we should change clothes".

So, we change to evening clothes. This time, we decide to look identical. We both take a green knee-long dress, with yellow sweater over it. We take the long gloves. We wear a double layer of opaque tights. Since it is so cold, we move into the bed and cover ourselves with a blanket.

"Nicotiana?" he says.

When I turn my head to him, he touches my lips with his and he starts pouring smoke inside me. A smoky kiss! I let the smoke enter my body, then I breath it out, gently. But he doesn't stop and takes a fast drag, then pours again some smoke inside me.

"You make me your filter?" I ask, smiling.

He answers nothing, but takes another inhale and again pours smoke inside me. My body receives his smoke again. Then, I take a smoke. He comes with his lips close to me, but I just exhale in the air.

"Take your tongue out!" I say.

As he does this, I take my cigarette and let the ash fall on his tongue. He takes it in, chews it and then smiles. Then, I take a drag of smoke and stick my lips to his. We do another smoky kiss. I feel the smoke entering his body, then he lets it out through his nostrils. Then, I take another inhale and fill his lungs with smoke. And then, he says:

"Now, you take your tongue out".

I do as he says, as he drops some ash on my tongue. I take it in and chew it, mix it with my gum. Then, I take another inhale and make a bubble of gum, filled with smoke.

"Bubble with smoke, gum with ash", I say.

He smiles. We kiss short a few times, then again exchange smokes between us. And again we eat each other's smoke. And again, until all ash from our cigarettes gets inside our mouths. Our tongues are now partially black. And our gums are grey, with a completely different smell then before. I try to make a bubble but fail. The fabric of the gum changed. We do a gummy kiss, then. We exchange our pieces of gum. He also tries to make a bubble but fails.

So, I take two new pieces of gum, for both of us to chew. I then make not a bubble, but only cover my tongue with a layer of gum, that might have became a bubble.

"Wow, I never done that", he says.

"It is easy", I say.

He tries, then does it.

"What if our gummy tongues touch?" he says.

"We can try".

And we do this. We kiss and while doing this, our tongues touch for the first time. Well, not directly, covered with a layer of gum. But as our mouths move away, the gum sticks together and we make a small wire that connects us.

"That is nice", I say. "How about two bubbles touching?"

We do that too. We make two bubbles that touch, then stick together. As we do this, a trail of gum connects our mouths and we have to break it.

The evening train returns from the mine. We both take a winter coat on and go outside, wearing plastic sandals. He signals the train to depart, while I radio contact nearby stations. Miners returning from work, step out of the train. They all know us.

"Nice skirt you have, Atan!", says one of them, to Alia.

"You look sexy, girl", says another one.

"Thanks", says Alia. "See you tomorrow at work!"

This is how some people speak with him. They don't offend him, but sometimes make jokes.

We return to the house. Alia puts some coal on the fire. We both step into the bed, then cover our bodies with the blanket.

"I am freezing!" I say, as my body is trembling of coldness.

We stick closer, under the blanket. Our feet are touching and even hugging each other. Our hands are touching too, only our bodies are not getting that close first, then they do. We need some body heat. We get closer and hug, but both are gentle with our hands, not to touch each other in our sensible points. I must not touch his back, he must not touch my neck. Even after we have been so long together, it still is not possible to cross this barrier.

We light another cigarette and smoke it completely, also doing a few smoky kisses, sometimes followed by simple kisses.

When I look in his eyes, I see only little passion, compared with the sinful and lustful desire I've seen in many other guys. A little, not much. Sexy, not porn. This is good for me.

Then, we do something else. We move under the blanket, with the ashtray and light a cigarette, careful not to ignite the blanket, which is made of artificial wool. There is enough light here. With one hand, we keep the blanket up, while with the other, we keep our cigarettes close to the ashtray. Also, we stay in some sort of squat position, so that our knees are near the belly. So, we also can see our pantyhose, while our feet are touching. Also, our knees are touching. Each time we exhale, we blow smoke one into each other. There is no other way. The air gets so fast filled with smoke, that it becomes hard to breath... but we don't give up until we finish our cigarettes.

Then, we do another type of feet massage. He moves with his head towards my feet, while I also am with my head at his feet. We start massaging each other. It is a smell of sweat, but also combined with the smell of pantyhose. Somehow, it is not repulsive. As doing this, I also light a cigarette. With each inhale, I blow the smoke towards his feet. With two layers of opaque tights, there is no way to see his toes, but I know they are here. I feel them. And I feel him, touching and massaging my feet. I also feel him lighting a cigarette and then some heat at my toes. He must be doing the same thing, heating them with his smoke. This continues for a while.

Then, we lean on our backs, but on opposite sides of the bed. We both put a pillow behind our backs, so that we can see each other. Our feet are clearly touching each other. He has one foot over my belly, almost reaching to my breasts, while I have one foot a bit over his belly. And with that foot, I feel something. I feel his organ, growing and twitching slowly. While staying in this position, we light another cigarette. We smoke with one hand, while with the other we still massage one foot of the other person. This continues for a while.

He gets out of the bed to put some coal on the fire. Then, he returns. He struggles a bit to get back in the same position and I help him do this. What surprises me is that his organ is now small. Now, I find out that touching it with my feet is not a problem, but touching with any other part of the body might be. We still don't know what our limits are.

I move a bit, to get another cigarette and the lighter. As I do so, I move my foot and feel his organ increasing in size. Touching has any effect on it? For me, it has. I yet don't know for men, but as a woman, I cannot masturbate without touching myself. I heard about girls having orgasms without touching, but it never worked for me.

He also moves, to take a cigarette and a lighter. He takes his foot away, then as he tries to get back into position, moves it beneath my skirt, touching my genitals. I feel some pleasure as this happens, but some part of me says 'stop'. For a second, I see something like a lake filled with worms, ready to digest me. I see the slimy snakes that haunted my nightmares after I became a sfenist. It felt good, but I am not letting it to continue like this. I don't want to dream again those snakes, to shout in my dreams, to scream and to suffer. So, I gently take his foot and put it above my skirt. I feel the strong, double layer of tights that cover his feet, the same that covers mine. For a second, I see his green nails, the same with mine. As I put his foot above my body, I see another image: myself, crying, shouting and twitching, attacking him with anything I got. He tries to help, but I shout 'Get away from here'! Oh mine! This is what would have awaited me if I would let him touch?

"Is there anything wrong?" he asks.

"You touched my genitals", I say. "So, I moved your foot in a safer position".

Then, we again change places. He moves back, so we stay face to face. We again do some smoky kisses, gummy kisses and classic, short kisses. Then, after we finish our cigarettes, we remain in a strange position, with our foreheads and noses touching. Our hands and feet are also in contact. We remain in this position for a while.

The radio beeps. The night train is moving up. We both go to the station. There, in the cold air, we keep on kissing and doing smoky kisses. The train passes and we return, back to the warm blanket.

Then, as we sit in the bed, we hug, to get some body heat. Now we are completely touching each other. Well, he moves away and twitches.

"Is everything ok?" I ask.

"That just was too much for me", he says. "I am not ready for this yet. I don't know, my body just rejected this".

"No problem, I know how it is".

His feet hug my feet, as a response.

"I think we should sleep", he says. "The 3 AM train will come as usual".

"Ok", I say".

"We've been kissing for over 3 hours", he says.

"Oh yes, we did! And this is happening more often".

"Yes, Nicotiana. It is like we want to keep this going up forever".

"You know why, Alia".

"I know".

The reason this happens is because in a classic couple, hormones accumulate and then are released as sex occurs. But in a sfenist couple, this never happens that way. Hormones accumulate and makes the two be together. A huge affection accumulates, that binds the two together, in a very strong relationship, but never or almost never ends-up. It is like a plant that keeps on growing.

"I think my hormones increased too much", says Alia.

"I know what you want. Mine also are too high".

The only suitable way for us, is to masturbate. We cannot do anything better. I don't even dare to think about what would happen if we try something more. Only that, it is still cold in the room. So, we try this, together, in the same bed. We move to some distance one from the other, so that only our feet can touch now. The only thing we can see from each other is our heads, everything else is beneath the blanket. I focus on me. I pull my two pairs of pantyhose down, so that I will have space. Then, gently, I start working, like so many times, with the back of my screwdriver. On the other side of the bed, he is doing the same thing. I do this gently, as the handle gently enters my body. I also light a cigarette and hold it between my lips. I move it deeper, also touching the outside of my genital area. The pleasure starts to be felt, more and more. For a second, I think about my body. Smoke enters me through my mouth, towards my lungs. Second, I have some chewing gum, that many people don't know about. Third, I think about my feet, covered with two layers of opaque tights. Fourth, I think about my unusual green hair, that I love so much. And 5th, the fact that I am masturbating with the back of a screwdriver. My body is partially artificialized. Then, I look at him. My feet touch his pantyhosed feet and feel how they are moving.

Well, I finish the cigarette. I put the filter on the ashtray, then I take my hand, to help. The pleasure gets more intense, then reaches its maximum. I reach an orgasm. My body feels it just like a flame is moving through me. Just like a hurricane passed over myself.

When I look, Alia is still moving. He didn't reach orgasm yet. He start moving faster, realizing that I got it before him. Oh mine! This is really fast, as I can see the blanket moving and his whole body. With my feet, I massage his feet, to encourage him. Also, I light a cigarette. He hurries, then takes an empty pack of cigarettes and... everything is done. He remains about a minute in this position, then.

Well, like it or not, now we go through the cold, to the kitchen, to wash. Again, he goes first, then I go. Then, we enter the house and go to sleep, without saying anything. We are tired and tomorrow he must go to the mines.

As I go to sleep, I still remember the moment when my memories went back with the horrors from my past. The nightmares during night, the pain and suffering in day time... I realize how hard it is. We have nothing against if we touch certain parts of our bodies, but one wrong move and... nobody knows what can happen. I just hope my body will not react like with all those infidels that I attacked.

And the hardest question remains: Will we ever be able to have a child?