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Summary
On a Sunday evening, Charles Rowland saws off his hair with a pair of kitchen shears. He creates manhood out of thin air, and that’s a miracle all in its own right, he thinks, as dark curls drift down to rest against the tops of his bare feet. He washes his hands, scrubs the silvery blades clean beneath a gushing faucet, and the joy that erupts in his chest feels like the kind of purifying light he’s only ever heard about in scripture.
Charles Rowland is a boy.
When he tells his father as much, there is too much blood in his mouth for Charles to feel anything but dreadful. There is supposed to be holiness in the act of creation.
Where is the divinity in this?
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a look at transness and charles rowland, spanning several decades.
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Bookmark Notes:
TRANS CHARLES OMFG I NEED THIS