I wish to mention. I know there are matters that would arise in real life that I'm not dealing with. It's by design, I'm calling it artistic licence. It is fiction after all, and I want to keep it 'sweet and sentimental'.

Ages... undetermined, I don't know myself, early teens maybe. Calum/Cassie 12 to 14, Sarah 14 to 16. Perhaps. I've left that up to the reader to call, if you choose.

**********

Tuesday came around.

catfish, noun: a person who sets up a false personal profile on a social networking site for fraudulent or deceptive purposes
—Merriam-Webster.com

Jason's prank doesn't go as planned, and he finds himself dragged deeper into things than expected.

Calum, meet Cassie:

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon, and Calum was daydreaming on the bus. Gazing absentmindedly out the window at the passing scenery, taking in it all and none of it.

He stirred to life as the bus drove into the outskirts of the town he was vacationing in with his Aunt, Anne 'auntie Anne' and his cousin Sarah. 'My stop soon' he reminded himself, cautious of the stop he was to get off at.

On arrival he alighted from the bus with a bounce, he was looking forward to seeing his Aunt again, and Sarah.

71 year old John Dodge, retired military, now sits in a nursing home, his body riddled with cancer, waiting on the grim reaper to come for him when he is given another option.

 © 2016

Chapter thirteen

I saw Claire’s features freeze and I couldn’t define the expression on her face, it was a mix of fear, confusion, and shock.

“Claire, are you still there?” Julie asked, she sounded worried.

“Good. You're awake,” said a girl's voice.

“Huh? Whah?” I burbled groggily at the pretty fish-girl I saw hovering in front of me. She looked about sixteen and was about the cutest girl I'd ever seen. Definitely the cutest mermaid.

I was in a beach chair in the seashell castle's courtyard. My legs felt weird and fat and there was something sitting on my chest. She said, “Please don't panic, but in order to save your life we had to-”

Of course when she said don't panic like that it's exactly what I did do, but only for a second. I looked down and saw what was on my chest. It was my chest. Beneath these two rather impressive breasts my waist narrowed and then flared out into girlish hips that were covered in beautiful jade green scales, which continued down the long sleek shiny tail I now had for legs. I wagged it back + forth experimentally. And this stuff floating around my face wasn't some kind of seaweed but my hair, super long and shimmering like gold.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God,” was all I could say. “Oh my God! My God! My God!”

This summer vacation was turning out to be the strangest week of my life. Or maybe of anyone's...

Marley for the Win Part 8

Paul’s thoughts were suddenly thrust to his past. We never did it, I mean not that I didn’t try, there was that one time we kissed but it ended awkwardly. Everything makes so much more sense now, he thought. “So that’s why we never could get things going,” he said.

“Not that you didn’t try, how many times did I have to slap your hand away from my…” Lisa said.

“That’s not fair you led me on,” Paul laughed.

“When did being friendly and spending time together becoming leading someone on?” Lisa asked.

 
 
*Chapter 36*

Roskilde

 
 
*Chapter 35*

Old Lejre

Greg was sitting on a bus staring out the window vacantly lost in the depths of his mind. He would see his Stacy today for the first time and butterflies swarmed in his stomach. His entire body shook with excitement and fear as he wondered what she was doing. There was an hour left til he got to where he needed to be. A beautiful seaside town there was a hotel right by the beach and he took a deep breath. It was a weak attempt to tame his butterflies but he was glad for them, they only made him think of her more.

I had been the apple of my father’s eye, the treasure of his hopes and now it was all ashes. Burned by panic stricken villagers as I stumbled blindly away into the bush, choking on my own blood. Ebola had come to our place and I was glad… glad that the others would no longer ridicule me for not being a man when I knew they were right.

I didn’t know why I was crying, maybe it was grief for myself because I was sure I was dying, maybe it was anger at my parents… not so much at them as at the culture that ensured they could never accept me.