Roswell, New Mexico, July 1947: Did a flying saucer crash there? Were aliens, live and dead, found? Would you want your son to marry an alien? What was the government covering up? I know that I swore off conspiracy theories, but as the world’s most infamous TG investigative reporter I have a duty to publish the Truth about Roswell (which I discovered by accident). Why? Because my findings have Universal (or Cosmetic) implications for our understanding of gender.

UNIFORMS.

Not even first light. The chop was making my teeth rattle as the blunt bow slammed into each wave the LCU met, and a couple of the lads were already being sick. The bergen weighed far too much, but I’d managed to snaffle a Mao suit and, much to my surprise, managed to squeeze it in. We were in the second wave, and as we had heard nothing from the shore so far it looked as if we were going to be unopposed. Thank fuck my new boots had come. Too many of the lads were still in ammo boots, but I had done more than enough on Dartmoor in mine to know exactly how bad they were.

Out of the Ashes, Part 6

Out of the Ashes by Misty Meenor A Comic RetCon Universe Story The Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian characters are the property of DC Comics. Heatstroke nodded in satisfaction as he stepped back and extinguished the bright flame that had covered his form. A thin, finger-width scorched black line outlined the edges of the huge vault door on three sides, pitted and scarred by rivulets of melted steel. Part of the bottom edge still glowed cherry-red, slowly dimming as it cooled. The room was filled with an acrid smoke, uncomfortably warm. Fifteen minutes, right on schedule. His associate spoke. "Phase two complete. Beginning phase three. Five minutes."

Previously:
I just hope everything goes well tomorrow. How will people react to the new me? Will they accept me?
  

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 55

The final part of my tale.

Another piece that I wrote at the end of High School. This will probably be my last piece for a bit, while I try to tackle a larger piece.

 
"So, you think she'll like me? Miss Pegasus I mean?"

"Well she should, I would like to see the look on her face when you match her on knowledge of the card game though."

Cat’s in the Cradle

No it’s not a typo in the title. My name is Cat, or it’s what everyone calls me. It used to be Charlie. I used to be Charlie and Charlie was to me like living as a space alien. See Charlie was a boy and to me, ever since I remember I was so not a boy. I was a girl and I was trapped.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 52

EXTREMELY UNPLEASANT MATERIAL BELOW.
I was not required as a witness, as my “evidence” was simply the initial recognition of Alfie Smith’s face. Naomi, however, was called, and when the day of the trial came up we made a party of five for the trip up to Croydon Crown Court, us, Naomi and Albert, and Sally.

 
"How can I be a 12 year old girl?"

So You Want To Be A Girl, Do You
by Barbara Lynn Terry

Chapter 1.

Part 1 - We Begin The Beguine

"So, you want to be a girl, do you." It was a statement rather than a question. My name is Stephen Jean Kelly, I am eleven years old, and I am shorter than my mother's five foot, six inches, but not by much. Maybe an inch if that. My hair is a little long, because I never used the money for haircuts, and my mother had asked me several times why not.

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 50

And so a car park and a recreation ground filled with dancing couples, couples of all sorts and shapes.