"Bill rose from his seat and went over to Jane's desk, an 'aw shucks'smile on his face. "What is this? You figure to blackmail the local lawenforcemen... officer with my debutante picture, Aunt Jane?" Hardly," Jane retorted, her lips curled into the smile that had struckterror in over a hundred cross-dressed males' hearts.It still worked, too. "Oh my GOD!" Bill yelped, "Where did you getTHAT!?! I could have sworn I got that safely into the trash."Incredulity warred with dismay on the deputy. ”“It can’t silence all the voices in my head,” he replies. “I close my eyes, but I can’t make it go away. So you think I’ll be less lonely? I pray that I’m not lonely, when I’m dead.” He sighs, “When I’m dead I won’t feel any pain. And when I’m dead I won’t feel anything.”A smile comes over Cynthia’s face. “I know the songs you’re singing, saying nothing loud and clear. I’ve heard that song a thousand times. But your shallow empty lies about suicide are patronizing. You can never understand. More

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