Before her lay a stack of bills waiting for her attention, but she had forgotten about them for the moment. Her eyes attentively watched her son, Josh...a, through the window. He was lying on the hammock that hung on the covered deck on the back porch. Rain fell continuously around him, but it didn't seem to bother him, or, more likely, it was the rhythm of the falling rain that had him caught in a trance as he wrote furiously in his notebook. She wondered what masterpiece he was creating. Her. The conversation is as followsVarun : you are a real piece of cake. I have never seen such a “girl” like you.Me : so there were more like me?Varun : yeah, a couple of guys, I will not say girls. They were straight guys who wanted money for their body. They were faking romance. But I see you are really a girl. I love you.I was still wearing my tees and jeans.Me : so dont you have anything for your girl to wear?Varun : yes, the old guys, they never cross dress. I bought them something but they. More

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