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Because if she was, then she would have ascertained the haste with which, much later on, the double bed was ordered, or the youthfully coloured cotton sheets, the modern underwear were procured, how his entire wardrobe was generally revitalized, as well as the fur-nishing of his bachelor pad, all of this obviously with the help of an increasingly robust bank account. Pre-dictable, since the publicity and the self-confidence that he had conquered and acquired respectively, pos-sibly acted, if not as a powerful aphrodisiac, at least as an allure? Inevitable, because out of all of his fe-male readers who, following his coming out, came to his Facebook profile, it was not hard to imagine that some would have infiltrated, not necessarily his bed but, in one manner or another, his life? Indispens-able, because there must have been, time and again, someone with whom he shared, OK, perhaps not his nights but, at worst, some of his private moments? Unfair, if it was from where he drew his material for a collection of short stories – each one with a female name for a title –, a collection which was eventual-ly published, causing an outcry? Fair, if by material we mean nothing more than a mood, an atmosphere, random conversations, occasional grimaces, the odd shivers perhaps, the sound of someone’s laughter, a moan, a silence?