I look out the kitchen window and he asks if I am hungry. " no I'm fine, but you go ahead and eat he pulls out a hot pocket from the freezer and puts it in the microwave. I am still standing at the sink looking out the window at nothing really. he holds me and asks what's wrong I shake my head for fear that if I try to say anything I will begin to cry. he asks again with a tone that tells me he genuinely wants to know what is wrong again I shake my head nothing I say " no please tell me" I whisper as I clear my throat from the tears " how can something feel so good , be so wrong?" he pulls me close and steps away "I didn't want to hurt you or cause you any pain" taking the problem on his shoulders yet again" your not " I say " don't worry about it I'll be okay this is not your fault"I put on a smile to let him know everything is okay and we joke around he try's to explain to me that, that was THE best ever in his entire life I agree with him. he takes his food outside in hopes. I really enjoyed it and hadbecome quite proficient under my Grandmother and Mother's guiding hand.I picked up a couple of regular but modest grass and hedge cutting jobsand it was whilst looking for something more lucrative that the nextepisode in my burgeoning tranny existence happened.I'd advertised my services on a postcard in the window of our local shop"16 year old available for all gardening work. Especially good at mowingand hedge maintenance. Reasonable rates. Call XXXXXXX" or something verysimilar. I received a call from a man who lived on the other side of oursmall town who lived on one of the really expensive Victorian avenues.He had a large detached house with an absolutely huge garden. He told methat his regular gardener was going to visit family in Australia for 8weeks and he needed somebody to cover for him. 8 weeks was perfect. Theschool year had not long finished and it was just over 8 weeks before Istarted my A Levels at the local 6th form college. For non.
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