Thanks to Malady for his help editing and for ideas.

To Return Home 2.2

"I don't give a damn who it is, Bernie! I don't want you linking with anyone down there again!"

I stopped on my parent's porch. I had been reaching out to open the door, but now, hearing Daddy yelling, I wasn't sure I wanted to walk in on them. All three of us girls had a standing invitation to simply walk in, as did all of them, including Mama and Daddy, at our homes.

I had a particular reason to not want to walk in on this particular squabble. Mama was doing a favor for me. Apparently Amos was able to connect to others again. It frightened all of us. What was to stop him from trying to control us? I was very much afraid. Controlling me was something he might want to do to get to John.

One of the saddest stories on FictionMania is Janice's 'The Slut': "Three teenage girls exact revenge on the older brother of one of them, who is obnoxious to them, with dire results." Six minutes ago, I posted it here on BCTS as 'The Slut (By Janice)'. It's a short but powerful story, cutting 'close to the bone' of reality. Many of its reviewers demanded a sequel. 'Aftermath' is my unauthorized tribute to Janice's gut-wrenching realism. Please do not associate any shortcomings in my work with her thoughtful gem. Any overlaps in copyright I cede to her.

CHAPTER 35
I suppose that Maisie’s arrival was the start of another new life for me. I had managed to get through to Kim by a simple process of empathy, for she was me, in so many ways. There was a fire in her, one I had seen when she had called me a nonce and issued directions about sex and travel. Each time she snarked at someone, I heard myself passing a comment about a horse to a woman whose looks were more Clydesdale than filly. I realised how much I depended on her support only when things took a little turn for the worse.

ATTEMPTED HUMOUR!!! Anyway, the synopsis: Eric needs money for university, and Aunt Nadine helps him.

Butch watches as everyone boards the plane. He had originally thought he was going to be taking Kat and her crew back. He wasn’t counting on the others that were loading. He spots two women staying away from the others. He noticed that the woman with short black hair was supporting the other one, who was walking with a limp. He also noticed that the robe she had on was filthy and had a rust color stained on the front of it. The poor thing looked so pale as the other woman lead her over to a seat, far away from the others.

Leanne's daughter needs surgery soonest. Alas, there's a problem.

CHAPTER 35
I suppose that Maisie’s arrival was the start of another new life for me. I had managed to get through to Kim by a simple process of empathy, for she was me, in so many ways. There was a fire in her, one I had seen when she had called me a nonce and issued directions about sex and travel. Each time she snarked at someone, I heard myself passing a comment about a horse to a woman whose looks were more Clydesdale than filly.

For Daddy
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

He called me “Daddy” in the emails and text messages I received from him. I guess I thought that it had been so long since we had been together as father and son that he would still think of me like that. But really, that made no sense. My son was over 18 at the time. He would have only been 11 or 12 when I left his mother.

Spinal Tap
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

The device was a simple spinal implant. Something injected into the fluid of the spinal column, carrying the capacity to deliver tiny electrical impulses. These impulses were so small that the minute battery had sufficient capacity for one hundred single tiny surges. But directly in the spine those surges translated to bursts of incredible pain. Julie felt that one hundred such jolts would be all that was needed to adjust behavior. In the case of her own son Chris, she had used less than fifty.

To the credit of its author, one TG story on a site disturbed me to the conclusion that, in order to sleep better at night, I needed to write a moral counterpoint to it.

We had wandered the ether for millions upon millions of years, searching for an appropriate home that would serve our created purpose. Our creator had a dream to use us to bring harmony to her planet, but was too late, as with the rest of the planet, we were thrown out into the ether and left to drift until we found our purpose. We wandered past planet after planet, some having no life, and some with life but not needing our purpose. It wasn’t until we approached a system from the perpendicular that we observe a planet, a blue planet, with indications of needing our purpose, if only we could find the one which would become our catalyst.

Chauffeuse
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“Actually, I thought you were a woman when you first applied,” said Elspeth Mabey, as she sat in her drawing room sipping her tea. “You put your surname first, you see: Bonnie Keith. And here you are, Keith Bonnie.”

“I have been in Europe, Ma’am, where they write their names that way,” the newly recruited driver replied. “Were you looking for a woman?”

We had wandered the ether for millions upon millions of years, searching for an appropriate home that would serve our created purpose. Our creator had a dream to use us to bring harmony to her planet, but was too late, as with the rest of the planet, we were thrown out into the ether and left to drift until we found our purpose. We wandered past planet after planet, some having no life, and some with life but not needing our purpose. It wasn’t until we approached a system from the perpendicular that we observe a planet, a blue planet, with indications of needing our purpose, if only we could find the one which would become our catalyst.

Beauty Boy
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Why can’t a guy be a beautician? It is a trade, right?