Xavier Duvet My Feminization 43 Now

Opening Vignette The kitchen light at 6:12 a.m. slants across a chipped mug; the steam from tea pulls like a small tide. Xavier sits at the table, shirt open at the collar, a silken scarf folded beside the mug. Fingers study the scarf as if learning a new language. The ritual is small: fold, press, knot. The knot is steadying. In the knot, a promise that a day can be led by gentleness.