Beyond – getting on for perhaps near on twenty miles – I espy the orange glow of Fawley Oil Refinery at the far mouth of Southampton Water, curiou...ly attractive. The sun is swollen, bl**d red and shortly to dip below the horizon. Between the pier and me is about an eighth of a mile. At the base of the pier is the Esplanade Railway Station and landward to that, Ryde Bus Station – where I used to work. Traversing east is first the Hovercraft Terminal with its concrete apron and three craft. By the end ofthe weekend I was crying on my bed because I physically couldn't keepfrom pumping my fingers in and out of my vagina..."'My vagina', it was weird to hear Hedgpeth say that. But it was trueand I could say the same thing. "My vagina.' I had one now, I couldfeel its presence between my thighs. I didn't know much about myvagina, except that I really didn't want ownership of it at all."What do you do now you're free?" I asked."Bars. That's where I've gone the last couple of nights. I've. More

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