The Value of Independent Values

She looked at her bank balance. Enough money to pay one of three outstanding bills. Which one...?

She set down her smartphone and walked over to a window at the end of the corridor.

A pigeon pacing back and forth on the window ledge.

A leaf falling down between two buildings.

She fogged up a portion of the window with her breath and drew two hearts, one hers and one a love she wished she had.

She was neither woman nor womyn, neither female nor feminine. She was. In fact, she was not she. She did not think, "She is." She thought, "I am. My name is Temqap."

Temqap leaned forward and looked up the side of the building on the other side of the alleyway. Windows and more windows.

Temqap walked back to the chair and picked up an acoustic guitar, practicing "Soledad" one more time before heading outside. Temqap would delay the bill-paying decision until later in the evening. Now was time to feel the love Temqap did not have through playing the guitar with longing, the space between chords speaking of emptiness that would wait another day to be filled.