CHAPTER 1: 11am (On Slacks, Psycho-Geography and Sex) The fetid, decaying stench of love that he sported so unwittingly but which could never evade the psychic nose of womanhood, ensnared him. True love wouldn’t remain elusive for very much longer. She was out there. He would find her. His time would come and it would come soon. He could sense it. He checked the mirror…. Fuck ‘sense it’! You could fuckin’ SEE IT! Oh yes… he knew it, and they did too. And if there was any doubt left in their pretty little minds, there was always the badge. The badge said it all. Correction; the badge was all. His world view, his belief system, his heart, mind and soul. All hopes, dreams, passions, fears… Everything he knew to be true – the one truth, the only truth – hung there weightless on a two and a half inch bit of tin. Its Zen-like simplicity and beauty reminded of nothing less than his very essence, captured and woven into a silken tapestry of Haiku: “SHAKIN’ STEVENS & THE SUNSETS – HETEROS...