Through the half-open kitchen door the light showed Bailey’s pajamaed legs dangling from the covered bathtub.
Clichéd insults await the wrongthinkers: deny TW and you’re a bigoted transphobe; assert it and you’re a deluded member of the transcult.
The time had come, Dundee acknowledged, to decide if he was serious about making a run for the roses. It was only mid-1990, but presidential campaigns had evolved into two-year affairs, and if he really had that famous fire in his belly, now was the time.
fire in his belly,
When we turn ſenſuall in our pleaſurous enjoyments, we remember not eternity.
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