“They have no word for, Fluffy”

Every now and then there’s a arm wrestle between the identities yak sox and the other guy. The other guy has always won, but in this place people can’t pronounce his name. He might disapear completely. They stare at the seven letters, then ask what is it? how do you say it? He says, they attempt to repeat it and come out with something completely different. Or he’s asked to spell it and the conversation has promptly died. In one situation at a beverage-dispensing establishment he was labelled ‘too hard to pronounce’ for the whole night. Even people who he’s grown close to find subtle yet effective ways to carry out communication, spoken or written, without mentioning his name. Eg. Writing an email in the form of a phonecall, and ending it, “Well, seeya!”
There are no natural words in the language starting with ‘L’, only modern, introduced words such as ‘lesbian’ .. the ‘s’ pronounced as a mixture of ‘x’ and ‘sh’. And here, lesbians are considered filfy.
I almost was going to tell someone about how my dear sister is teaching at a secondary school in Melbourne, one that’s considered progressive, and how the school admin made all the students march in a recent gay pride rally — but it’s all just so confusing.

Also, there’s no three-consonant combinations like ‘chl’. yak sox may take over the body completely yet. There’s even a subway station called Yaksu, which is close.

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