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The stranger wasn't his only newproblem. As he'd sat up, Tim had felt his hair - he assumed it washis - fall over and onto his shoulders. And the rais...ng of a singlehand to his chest swiftly confirmed what Tim knew should have beenimpossible. Those now somewhat familiar jiggling sensations he'dbegun feeling on his chest were solely attributable to those twinmounds of decidedly female flesh hanging there.Somehow - for some as yet unknown reason - Tim was still a girl. Heknew that couldn't be. I chose to sit at the kitchen table while she worked.“I think that is an excellent idea,” Maurine said.“Maurine did you ever have a nickname?” I asked.“My dad and my uncles used to call me little Mo. There was someone famous called Big Mo. I guess they chose it because my name kind of sounded like Mo,” she said.“I remember that nickname. He was a baseball player from the old days, I think,” I said it with a laugh.“If he was from the old days, you should be sure,” she said. “And yes I’m joking. More

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