So many things have changed over the last two years and a bit. The biggest change, to be honest, has been me, inside and out.

At that time, I was just about to graduate from high school. I did all right, I guess, mostly As and Bs. I got along with others for the most part, but I never really got close to anyone because I had a deep, dark secret I didn't want to tell anyone: I wished that I had been born female.

Was I at risk of losing everything?

Had I gained nothing after winning my fight against the Gun Queen?

Just what had I achieved? What had I earned for myself?

As my questioning thoughts slowly drifted through my mind, the empty, hollow feeling in my chest returned, making it hard to breathe as though my lungs were being distended by the vacuum within me.

I swallowed hard a few times, and tried to regain control of my breathing.

How should you respond when you “lose” someone in your family? Should you stop talking to them and just don’t acknowledge their existence, well that’s what I did now I just feel like an utter dickhead.

I tried to take my 'grounding' with grace. I tried to think of myself not as a prisoner of my hotel – which seemed to be crawling with security people... I wasn't sure whether they were from our corporate parent, the local authorities or the hotel's management, none of whom I presumed, would want a violent tragedy associated with their brands. I tried to pretend we were 'ultra-VIPs', so important that the world came to us and we merely 'held court'. That was how I tried to frame this, to keep myself from going stir crazy. It wasn't terribly effective.

Long, long ago, when humans were just beginning to form into tribes and learning to hunt and live together, there was a land far, soooo far to the west across the Unending Sea, where there lived a people who espoused peace and the well-being of all peoples.

Their land was called Leroqand and the Leroqandi people were known for their mediation during disputes of all kinds.

‘Halleluiah’ – possibly

This began as a series of jottings on how Hate & Hell are what 'They' want and deliver to our minority. I added Hope but then decided that it would be worth aiming for a viable Halleluiah as well.

A Second Chance

By Dawn Natelle

Another one for you. Enjoy: Dawn

FRIDAY, May 20, 2016

When Carly and Becca got on the bus that morning Layla was with them, cheerfully interacting with her former best friends. But as the other girls went to the back of the bus, Layla veered off and sat down next to Rachael.

Lucinda Rebecca Adams was out riding her old gelding Comanche King, she had needed to do a tour of the back of the ranch for some time now. The ranch was pretty big, just over 105,000 acres total, located in northern Texas not too far from the Texas - Oklahoma state line.

The ranch was home to over nine thousand longhorn cattle, most of them roaming where they willed across the ranch's broad expanse. There were over a dozen small to medium sized creeks on the ranch's land, so the cattle had plenty of places to go if they needed water.

'Hopeluiah’ – there can be hope

In this third segment, I was aiming at something better than the spreading of hate and nastiness. Maybe I am naïve but I do believe that people can be kind and generous. Well, some people, if not actually many,

Wouldn’t it be fantastic if some good came like Hope out of Pandora’s box. If out of the spew of unkindness that is so often and so willingly sent our way – that now and again there was unexpected decency and support - even niceness.

A Second Chance

By Dawn Natelle

Sorry for such a long gap between chapters. This one left me floundering for a few days. Hopefully I can get another one done before the weekend. (Some might find this one requires a tissue alert.) Dawn

WEDNESDAY, May 18, 2016

The Transplant

© 2017 by Nom de Plume

MAN GIVES BIRTH

Chapter 2

[24th December 2011, Helmand Province, Afghanistan]

The special forces soldier spoke quietly into his radio,
“Leopard One to Lion, come in please?”

“Lion receiving,” came the reply.

“Leopard One is waiting for the Antelopes at 951.”

“Roger Leopard One. Lion out.”

The radio went dead.

The soldier shifted his position slightly and peered out into the gathering doom of Christmas Eve.

Alaric Stephens was riding his Harley Davidson 2009 model year Fatboy, having just entered the town of Silverhill, Texas and decided to pull into a restaurant and bar that reminded him somewhat of an old English pub with its heavy wooden beams and part wood, part stone walls.

He was a big, sturdy, muscular man, standing 6'2" in stocking feet, weighing about 205 pounds, with a medium brown crewcut. He was clad in a pair of heavy leather pants, a 3XL t-shirt with a picture of a Harley Davidson Fatboy on it, a zipped up worn leather jacket and combat boots.