Freshly Pierced Ear

I was in the garden with my mother. The day was hot, I was sweating. My hair was long and I was young. I smelled of young sweat and faintly of a cigarette I'd smoked a few hours ago.

I had a freshly pierced ear, with a single bead half way up my lobe.

My mother paused, then gasped.

"Oh, my. What is that? You don't want people to think you're..."

She didn't finish her sentence. She'd meant to say, "gay..."

A word she never dared to say.