Monday, July 24, 2017


Although time had passed and our separation continued I kept my promise about taking her home each day from work. While I still lived in the apartment we shared, she had moved back home to her mother and the quaint home in the middle of a cul de sac.

Three days later Susan called me to find out if I wanted her to check on my cat again.

“Thanks Susan, but I’m released from the hospital early this afternoon.”

“Do want me to pick you up and drive you home.”

“No need to, a co-worker is doing that. Thanks anyway.”

“Sorry, but the doctors just came in to examine me to make sure I actually can go home. Bye.”

“Bye, dear.”

I hate lying to her, I just want to get home and get dressed in my feminine attire. The reality is, that after eight days of not doing it the urge has started to drive me up the freaking wall.

As the expected time that I had been told I would be released had come and gone, I started to get antsy. Luckily at this same moment the doctors came in and gave me my walking papers as they placed me in a wheelchair for the faciliatory ride to the hospital’s entrance.

When I got outside I called for the car service I regularly use for the ride home. Once there, I raced into the co-op building, up with the elevator, and into my apartment where I immediately got up of my everyday attire.

Since I’d be off from work for another week to recuperate I decided to take a delightfully scented bubble bath; and with the bathroom door closed, the lights turned off, my cd player playing my favorite disc of sensual music as three candles flickered their glow on counter top of the sink, I stepped into the tub for a hot relaxing soak wearing my shoulder length auburn human hair wig.

(C) Kathryn Heart - July 2014

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