The Peacock 1642

The silence that has just fallen over us is so heavy that no one has spoken another word and already we are pulling up in front of the house in New Westminster. I simply do not want to believe that the elegant transwoman sharing the backseat with my friends could be any more than a very well preserved forty, if that, but there is something in her words, her way of speaking them that goads me into believing the impossible. If Stella is indeed speaking the truth, then she would be over a hundred. "Stella", says Carl, just before I turn off the ignition, "What year were you and Sven born, exactly." "1913." She climbs out of the door with the grace and zest of a teenager. "Later this month we will be 108. In earth years, that is", she says with a malevolent chuckle....