Dear Son, Take care of the cat. Dont forget to feed the poor thing once in a while and change the litter tray at least once ever six months if thats not too much trouble. Try picking out the dry lumps of shit, before the neighbors dog eats them. Wash your hands afterwards - with soap. And while youre at it, you could try to remember to take the garbage out.

I sat in a restaurant, overlooking the bay, halfway through the main course, when my forearm display informed me Id been arrested and charged with exhibiting violent and uncivilized behavior in a public place, resulting in mental anguish. I watched the display, as the lawyer agent software of my choice appeared to defend me. My case never had much of a chance of winning from the very outset. I knew Id be found guilty, even before the jury returned its decision. So did my lawyer. The whole thing was almost a forgone conclusion.

This is my secret diary but I cant write very well anymore. I cant concentrate on the words Im trying to put on page. Some of the bigger words I wrote before, I dont know the meaning of anymore. Judith doesnt know Ive got this diary because I hide it from her. I dont know what day it is, so I dont put down the days, when I write in this diary. I dont know for how long Ive lived with Judith. It must be a long time, because Im pretty sure I wasnt like I am now - when came to live with her. I cant be sure anymore. She injects me with stuff, to make me forget who I used to be.

I saw very little of Yvonne over the next few weeks. I didnt view that as a particularly bad thing. All the cows immediately accepted Kim as the communal milking machine. Despite my misgivings about Kim being treated like a piece of machinery, the arrangement seemed to be working out well for everyone concerned. The cows treated her kindly, as they would anyone else. Sometimes, Id see one of my cows polishing her corset for her. Kim seemed quite content to do what she was designed for. I decided to leave things the way they were.

Melissa had suspected her husband of being unfaithful to her for over a month. She sat in a coffee shop with her best friend Gina, discussing her problem. "How do you know?" Gina asked her. "It has to be true," replied Melissa. "At first I refused to believe it, but Vincent would go out on weekends for hours at a time and refuse to tell me were hed been.

Any one to marry me would have to be pretty exceptional to satisfy my mothers standards for her only son. Living at home suits me fine - most of the time. My mother doesnt seem to be in any hurry for me to get married anyway but she knows I have to sometime ; its the law. Sandra has a boyfriend, named Tony. He isnt very smart, has a sarcastic disposition and ugly as sin. Hes aggressive and has the table manners of a pig. I think hes an egotistical, loud-mouthed idiot ; and just about everything else that

I own and operate the citys garbage treatment system. Whatever society throws away, eventually comes to me. And youd be amazed what people throw away. In a world almost totally devoted to leisure, no real human has to work for a living - Ive got a job. I guess that makes me a little odd - or at least different. Ive always believed - you can tell the wealth of the modern world by the quality and quantity of its trash.

Id entered the most exclusive, expensive and finest transformation clinic. I wanted the best and I was prepared to pay for it. After Id settled into my room, the interviews and assessments began. My first was with the resident psychologist. She was a middle aged, almost anorexic hard faced woman, dressed in a smart red, businesslike suit.

Theres no limit to a womans love ; provided the technology is available. Judith and I sat quietly in the library of our home one evening. She wore a pale pink, floor-length gown with long open sleeves. She worked on a piece of embroidery, using her enormous lactating breasts almost as a worktable. As if sensing my attention, she looked up at me and smiled, aware my penis had become erect.

As I sat in my small, damp basement apartment and my underpants, savoring my fourth glass of a cheap little something only a desperate wino would rave about, my bloodshot eyes drifted towards a particularly strange advertisement in the newspaper, Id carefully crumpled away on the floor. It read; The opportunity of a lifetime. If you want to become a woman and youre prepared to sell your soul to the Devil - call this number. Ive worked in sales and so know a con job when I see one. I noticed they gave a mobile phone number. What concerned me was - it was my mobile phone number they were using. Bloody newspaper I thought, theyre forever getting phone numbers wrong