yellow at the horizon and with green overhead, where mist rests low on the lapping waters and the mighty piles groan in the jaws of the ferry slip. The waters offered an impersonal haven of nothingness which I always declined to accept. I could neither lose Buff perman-

ently nor find my true self...

During the brief periods when I could think logically of Buff, I realized that something would have to be done about her. I had always maintained that knowledge is man s greatest asset, and yet, like many others, I had failed to practice that which I preached. I had learned that fear of the unknown is the greater fear and that when one faces their adversary it tends to wane. It was therefore logical that I turn and face Buff instead of running from her--per- haps we would be able to negotiate some sort of peaceful coexistence. It could be said that Buff's birth began at the New York Public Lib- rary--I wonder how many other expectant fathers have searched those files--The first thing that I learned was that there are many others like Buff. My sigh of relief must have been heard by many of the people in the large reading room. Then I ran into controversial opinions. Some wrote that Buff was evil, others said that she was good. Many stated that she would have to go, while others maintained that she could stay if well disciplined. Conflicting opinions, all from supposedly learned men, what confusion? Who to believe, the minister, the priest, doctor, psychiatrist, lawyer, who?

Despite the confusion I had gained considerable insight into my problem. I could face Buff without fear and, as a result, I began to give her more freedom. I began to look at her objectively, to study her likes, her dislikes, her tastes and attitudes. Then, as each sparkling facet of her personality emerged, I found her to be fully feminine. The nights of uncertainty and worry ended. She be- came free of the bonds which I had placed about her and we found a new happiness. Her concern now is to free herself from the bond s imposed upon her by society.

The years, more enjoyable since her birth, have passed quickly. I have learned all that I can about her except for the new things that come to light during her visits. The seed of her origin and her dharma remain hidden, awaiting discovery perhaps by myself but probably by others. These aspects of Buff are too distant for me to grasp and, while I continue to wonder about them, I have stopped searching. Instead I enjoy her, savouring every second of her pres-

ence.

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