Aside from the fact that he was a blue hedgehog,there really wasn't anything that outright said "Hello, I am Sonic theHedgehog!" At most he looked like someone who was a fan of his style,albeit in an embarrassingly feminine way.He popped open his purse. Inside he found a compact, a tube oflipstick, a miniature bottle of that parcel-dedum-blue stuff, a frillyhandkerchief, the damn letter that started all this... and no money. Soa bus or taxi was out of the question.He pressed his shiny red lips together. He didn't like it. No in fact,he hated it. But it was his best bet of getting home without a hitch.He fought the urge to let out a sigh. He adjusted the bust of hisdress, patted his quills to make sure they looked right, slung hispurse over his shoulder, and began to walk.* * * * *Click, clack, click, clack. The sound of his own footsteps practicallyrang in Sonic's ears, every tap of his stilettos on the sidewalkserving as a reminder of his feminine facade. After a block or two. The house was always warm, and Sue said she was thankful because she couldn't afford to be running electric heaters in Winter.I moved in, and wasn't really that interested in forming a "home". For me, it was just another place before I found another place. I was single again, and lived like a single again; going to the pub every night, and not worrying about being drunk and driving, because I could walk home in 15 minutes. I hardly saw Sue. Occasionaly, I heard her prectising singing. I was out early every morning going to building sites, and she didn't realy surface before 10. I would drop the truck and the dog home every afternoon and head for the pub before we got home.After about two weeks living there, I came home from the pub one night, and stood at the front door, trying to put the key in the door quietly. I could hear moaning through the window to the left, so I figured she must be entertaining someone, and I tried to be even quieter. I slipped in through the front door, held.
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