“I used to draw hands,” he says. “In architecture school. My professor said I was the best. ‘Hands are the hardest, Oliver,’ he said. ‘They hold the soul.’”
And the music plays on.
“What now?” Oliver asks.
At twenty, he saved 30,000 baht. He took a bus to a clinic in Chiang Mai. He emerged with the beginning of a chest, the promise of a hip, and a new name: Fiona. Ladyboy Fiona
She tells him about Somchai. About the rocks. About the motorcycle shop. About the first time she took hormones and felt the world soften at the edges. About the customer five years ago who tried to strangle her when he discovered the truth. About the scar hidden beneath her hairline. “I used to draw hands,” he says
Fiona steps into the light.