A present to myself. I have my necklace on as I always do, the heavy cross buried under my shirt. As I stand outside, I think that the world might hav... well been empty apart from you. I acknowledge the presence of others, but I do not see them at all. You are sitting at the sushi bar, in gentle conversation with the chef, who hands you something on a tiny plate. Elegantly, you take the morsel with a pair of lacquered black chopsticks and your thanks. You are wearing that shirt, the flowing. " While Joan struggled with the concept, the bra added, "Consider it as 'one last time'; a farewell to your life as a woman." Joan felt the bra gently knead her breasts, and brush her nipples rhythmically. "It would be the last time, wouldn't it? I mean, I, uh, won't feel like this, again...as a man."The bra said, "Physiologically, no. It will be your last fond memory as your time as a woman."The bra had said the wrong thing; Joan's resistance wanted to return, saying, "I doubt it. I have no. More

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