Fast friends

There’s nothing like the smile of a child to immediately lighten my mood. Or the grip of a child’s hands on my butt. I made fast friends with a little boy while in line at the pharmacy, as he introduced himself in such a tactile manner. I’ve never had one go straight for that part of my body before, but I did have my thigh caressed by a three-year-old boy at a Halloween party last year. He must have been compelled by the red fringe and fishnet stockings that were part of my flapper costume. It’s nice that at least some men in Portland are hitting on me. More to the point, the ease with which kids give their attention can be a tiny comfort in a lonely city.

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