RANSVESTIA

lip which made the silvery paint on my lips look somewhat ridiculous. I fled. Out in the sunshine. My own little mirror told me that real daylight was much more merciful to me.

Later on I was about to make another little mistake: I found some lovely synthetic wigs. The girl behind the counter wanted me to try one of them, but I mumbled some excuse and hurried away: to try on that wig would mean taking off my own wig first. Out of the question!

Late in the afternoon I drove my wife's little car home. Around me were lots of boxes and bags with beautiful new things. I didn't want to remember that I had to pack them all into my suitcase till next time

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A policeman lifted his hand. I was about to stop, but he waved me away and stopped the next car. I drove on, suddenly absolutely rigid with fear: In my pretty red handbag was my very masculine driver's licence... A nice little oversight!

Fortunately nobody seemed to notice my terrified face. And I arrived home, safely.

My wife called. She asked me to take the car and fetch her.

I washed my face, removed my nailpolish, changed my clothes.

My day was over. No use crying . . . And yet . . . Something felt hot and tight in my chest, and my eyes were dimmed.

Carefully I put my things back in the old suitcase, my wig in tissue paper . . . all my new underwear . . . I hadn't even tried them on . . . I was crying all the time, fiercely telling myself that it was no good crying, no good...

I sat on my suitcase in the attic, wiping my eyes. I said to myself: "Well, I've got to tell Lena! And I will! Some day..

And so I postponed it . . . Again.

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