The Metamorphosis of Dusty.

It`s around thirty minutes to midnight,

I am walking home with Rob

His arm protectively draped around my shoulders.

We are both young and in love.

This is London in the early seventies.

I glance across the road and recognise a lone figure,

Gangly tall and thin.

Walking alone.

His solitude emits utter loneliness.

He wears a long blonde wig , a short mini-skirt and killer heels.

His make-up , all his femininity , is too much.

He is George Meakin , trying to be “Dusty”.

I kind-of know George,

He comes to the Jobcentre where I work and Lynne has befriended him.

He`s been calling in often , keen to show her his new developing boobs.

He`s been so happy, thrilled with the change he`s finally been allowed to make.

Tim , the love of his life supporting and encouraging him.

Then Tim changed his mind.

About everything.

No wedding.  No relationship.  No life together.

Tim left, and George is alone.

He still wants to be Dusty so he continues.

Walks the walk ,

Has the treatment ,

But Dusty,  and George ,  are so alone

And so very, very lonely.

Jan Bach