Even Robson turned away at the end, but he heard the gurgling coming through the severed neck as the body’s reflexes tried to draw in another breath. He turned back, and wished he had not. The mouth was trying to draw in air, as if it was the head of a fish. The man spat on the face, then turned, grabbed a cloth and began to clean all of his equipment. He seemed unconcerned at the dying head, still trying to gulp in air. “Good bye, Willem Wallace,” he spat out. It was the last thing Wallace heard. Ever.

“Odd, though. You don’t look like you have a transformation spell on you. Or any kind of spell, really. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a transformation, but I think I’d recognize it. Must be some kind I’m not familiar with.”

Charlotte was surprised when she showed up at the yacht. She spotted Leslie wearing the tiniest of bikinis. The cups of the top had a black triangle shape that covered her nipples, while the rest was opened. They showed the rest of her breasts while providing little support.

Also, she noticed the inch-wide gold choker that encircled Leslie’s neck. She also noticed the necklace around Leslie's neck. It was in the shape of a dragon encircling a jade center. She also noticed an unusual flowery design on Leslie’s arm. She had never seen anything like it before.

Stuck in a Rut.
By Rosalie Redd

Casey Church is dealing with the usual things that any Fourteen year old girl has to deal with. That is... if they are a girl in a world where girls aren’t born, they are transformed. Leaving her male life behind is difficult, and new threats are on the horizon.

Christine cracks her knuckles and looks at her opened laptop. She had a pile of notes sitting next to it as she prepares to start writing the movie script. She was wearing a pair of comfortable shorts and a light baby blue camisole. She was still on medical leave until she was fully healed from her operation. Even though she and Lache have been having sex on a regular base.

A smile appears on her face as she thinks about what they did last night. Lache was at work at the moment, so she had her place to herself for a while. Lache has been spending a lot of time at her place.

The moonlight from the window was falling directly on the gateway in the mural. But he couldn’t see the road and horse and buggy and the distant hills. Instead, he saw — a chair. A high-backed wooden chair, with red velvet cushions on the back and seat and arms, and to the left of that, part of what looked like a sofa or armchair.

How far would you go?

He was reluctant to take the power of the government into his own hands, as he wanted to distance himself from his brother. He tried to say no, but the people wouldn’t hear of it. He was their choice, and that was that. Eventually, he accepted the position. For a time. He told the people that there must be a set term. The government made that term be a millennium, followed by a possible second term, but that was the limit allowed. No way was someone going to be president for over ten thousand years!

Fredrik Wallace became the first president of the new Earth Republic. He was Willem’s brother, but they looked nothing alike. Their father had divorced and remarried in the time between their births. Also, while Willem’s mother had appeared generally Scandanavian, Fredrik’s had been African. Thus, the people did not consider the brothers to be any bit the same.

Fredrik wanted there to be even more of a separation, so before he took office, he had his name changed. He kept his first name, but his last name came to signify the people of the new republic. Freeman.

Marc was pretty pissed about everything in general too. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “The fact that they were killed, however, leads me to believe that they may have been onto something.” He sounded very mad as he told me his opinion.

“I’m sorry, Marc. I didn’t mean to sound like that.”

“You really didn’t,” he told me. “I think we’re both on edge. Let me do some more research and I’ll let you all know what I’ve found.”

“Okay,” I told him. I turned to John. “Let’s go back to your apartment. I’ll make some dinner for us.”

“I sincerely hope I can keep it down my dear,” he said as we stood. Well, him sort of.

Willem Wallace sat, looking over his domain. Not that he could see much, but he ‘owned’ the earth. When he came to power, or rather arranged his own rise to power, he wasn’t sure where he wanted his base of operations to be. London, Paris, Jakarta… He didn’t know. He wanted it to be perfect. He wanted the people to be compliant; willing to be led by someone with his special qualifications. To that end, he had a palace built in Death Valley of southern California, in the United States. He had considered the Sahara Desert, but he didn’t want his domain to be full of sand. Granted, he could program some nanites to make people willing slaves who continually cleaned his palace. By the time he was done, they would love being his personal slaves, but there would still be the sand. Going outside would continually be dirty with sand everywhere.

A Christmas Party - part 8


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Bobbi and Jordan meet Bobbi's Mum. Bobbi makes some decisions and learns some things.

This is the final part, for now. It's not the end of Bobbi's story, I think, but it's a good point to draw a line under things.

Hilarity ensues when a smart aleck on the run finds himself hiding behind a petticoat and a feather duster in order to elude the gangster who wants him dead. (Or maybe just wants him, period!) A fun and lighthearted comedy of errors filled with elaborate deceptions, mistaken identities, and a guy stuffing his boobs into a French maid's costume! What's not to like?

The person who used to own the house until she died was an artist. She’d painted murals in every room. Davey could hardly believe that Dad was planning to paint over the battle scene in the living room and the mural in his and Mom’s bedroom, which he hadn’t let any of the kids see. Davey’s big brother Carson had snuck in to see it, and he wouldn’t tell Davey or Amy what it was; he just snickered when they asked him about it.

The Option
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I did not recognise the name when I was told of my visitor. Although it had been a few years I recognized her as one the victims of the Pickton Prowler, a mass rapist who I had been instrumental in catching. After an exchange of greetings I sat to hear what she had to say.

“I was sorry to hear about your conviction”, she said. “There are many of us who truly appreciate what you did for us. We want to help. In particular Annie Haldane and the Mitchell Sisters want to help.”

CHAPTER 39
Mick Worsley had put a word in for me with the boss, and they had been as helpful as I could have hoped. There was a drop due in Chester, another a day later. I could ride there on the first drop, and if I could find somewhere to spend the night, I was guaranteed a lift most of the way there and back. I had started to laugh when Mr Mossman mentioned ‘finding somewhere to stay’, and he had given me a sharp look.

“Nothing really, Boss. It’s just that the last time I found somewhere to pass the night in Chester, it was under a tarpaulin in a pleasure boat by the river. I might just go a bit upmarket this time”

By popular request and demand, I've finally managed a chapter of hardest tale I write bar none. Enjoy some Mary, won't you? Hope you all remember where we left off, it's been awhile....