The picture placed on an easel was that of a middle-aged man, in a conservative suit. The service was for one Leonard Andrew Samuel. It was a sad iron... that it was not who they buried.To me, she was Laura. I met her sixteen months ago, over the internet. We frequented the same chat rooms, both standing on the threshold of gender transition. After a few months of correspondence, we met for lunch. It's funny how well you can get to know someone through her written word. By the time I met her. ” The little girl whimpered back, “my name is Lycinia.” Irina smiled, “well Lycinia, do yourself a favor and make this easy on yourself, and just tell us what we want to know.” Lycinia asked, “what to you want to know?” Irina said, “where does the rest of your pack live?” Lycinia gulped and asked, “If I tell you are you gonna let me go?” Irina got somewhat fierce and said, “I think you should be more concerned about what we will do to you if you don't tell us. You do realize you are in. More

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