Her last words as she left were, ‘I love you, babe.’ Not necessarily the words of someone who hated me for what I had been doing.'Shit, shit, shit,' I cursed myself again, why hadn’t I stopped all this when I married?The truth was, of course, that I couldn't stop. There was a time, I guess, before I started crossdressing, but I couldn't remember when that was. I had been crossdressing since I was a k** and had begun by borrowing my mum’s clothes. At bath-time, I had discovered Mum left her stockings and underwear in the laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom. I picked them up and felt a thrill run through my body as the soft nylon slipped through my fingers. Sometimes they were even still warm if Mum had used the bathroom before me. It wasn't long before I graduated from merely holding them to trying them on. I knew deep down it was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself. I was drawn back time and time again to the laundry basket as if it had hypnotised me. The sensuous glide over. Their eyes looked tired and wrinkles became more obvious; even their postures slouched as each stood. One of them remained unmoved by my arrival and retained the whole 'Cheshire cat' likeness. A blondish brown haired woman who danced under the shade of a tree roughly twenty paces straight ahead. An invisible partner led her through a slow moving two step dance which had her arms wrapped around where "his" back would be.The girl waiting beside me pulled me forwards to this woman. I wondered why but in the same instance was very curious about this land and its inhabitants. My arrival in her proximity shook her out of the momentary stupor she had fallen under, but that youthful glee kept its composure within her. She outstretched a hand introducing herself, "I am Raven. The ruler of this fair city and the reason why everyone here is so ecstatic about living. Have you ever been influenced by some outer source to feel horrible about a mistake you have made, or maybe during your childhood.
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