Retransitioned
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I saw him across the room, and my blood ran cold. I knew when we split up that I would have to avoid all the places that we loved to go to together, and to avoid mixing with people that we knew as a couple, but it seemed to me this was not one of those places. He was not interested in art before he met me, so why would he be at the opening of that exhibition?

The Miner’s Wife
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Day One

Milky McGann found the boy on the trail and thought that he was dead. It seemed that his eyes were open and just staring at the dull grey sky like that of a dead man. He was lying in a pool of blood - perhaps there had been less lost than it seemed. But the face was white as if in shock rather than the slate color of death.

“If’n you’re hurt I’d better roll you over and see if’n you can’t be patched up,” said Milky, only half expecting a reply.

Fathers
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I found a canoe. I had taken a job for a few days cleaning out an old shed behind a house on the shore bought by somebody in the city. The realtor said that I could stay in the basement under the house for a few days and earn some cash for emptying the contents of the shed into a dumpster, sweeping the floors and wiping the place down.

Collateral
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I was on holiday on my own. I had broken up with my girlfriend holly and I decided to drive my car all the way down to Cabo – just time on the road to clear my head. I just wanted to go somewhere where the booze was cheap and forget everything. I just jumped in and drove and drove.

Photoshoot
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I was accompanying my girlfriend on a photoshoot. To be honest, as a guy I was pleased to tell my pals that I was dating a model, but the truth is that she was not getting much work. She mentioned that her father had a hand is teeing up the session to promote a line of clothing that was just her style, so I have to say I wondered if Daddy might have sweetened the deal a little, given that he has bundles of cash.

Third Wife
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I had always had long hair. My mother let me grow it. She said that she had long hair when she was younger but cut it when she had children. She liked to brush it.

At high school I wore it in a long braid oiled so that it did not have too much volume. After it was washed it would gain volume and look like girl’s hair, which was not a look I wanted. It was interested in girls and so I wanted to be masculine. In fact, girls used to like to play with my hair.

Discharged - Female
A Short Story based on Fact
By Maryanne Peters

The Recall
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I was close to him in age, which is why they called on me, I guess. I was still assigned as “Active for Operations”, but I had not done a whole lot. That work is for younger men.

It was just that he had worked in the Ukraine, and now that was the place everybody wanted to understand. A lot of intelligence is about experience, and old connections. It is the kind of stuff that people retire with.

Pinkmail
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

He barely heard the knock on the door, but he rose to open it. The dark shape slipped past him into his motel room, moving swiftly and as quiet as that knock. Wesley closed the door.

The black hooded cloak was curiously old-fashioned, like something out of a period costume drama, but its purpose was clear. He had demanded that Oliver Ramsay meet in the out of the way establishment, and that could only be done in darkness and fully shrouded. Oliver was too well known for it to be any other way.

Clementine
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Gabe Horton was just the scout and guide. The leader of this wagon train was Ezekiel Masterton. He was the man who called the shots. Gabe could only recommend. Pastor Ezekiel seemed to hold the will of every one of the settlers in his hand.

Never too Old

A Vignette

By Maryanne Peters

A Pearl Among Women
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“I suppose that I will have to tell you everything then,” she said with a sigh.

“Only if you want to,” he said. “But come back to bed. When you are back in my arms you can tell me anything you like. You know I will listen.”

“You listeners are rare among men,” she said, waving a scolding finger at him. But she flipped the covers and slipped back to where she had laid before.

The News
A Short Story Contribution
By Maryanne Peters

I suppose that I had not much idea about the issues of intersex or transgenderism before Toxically Induced Sexual Morphosis (TISM) hit Ridgewick. Then it became not just the big news in town, but the only news. And the news is my business.

When I Come Back
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I thought that you might like to see how I am progressing. I know that I shocked you when I told you about the real me, but I need to share with somebody who knew who I used to be, just how much I have changed.

I am staying with a bunch of girls who are just like me. It is a bit spartan as perhaps you can see, but we are all saving our pennies for you know what, and what don’t spend on rent or food or saving for surgery, gets spent on looking as good as we can, simply because that is what women do.

The Rancher’s Daughter

Chapter 1

Horace Bewley loved his wife like he loved his land. He could look at her in the same way, and thank the good Lord that he had been blessed with all that he could ever want. He had her, he had the Iron Tree Ranch, and he had 5 strong and healthy sons. He just wanted her to be as happy as he was.

“Pat is my last child,” she said. “I so wanted a daughter, but now the chance of that is gone.”

Daisy in Love
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It was hard coming out to my parents as a sissy, but it is just something that had to be done. I just did not want them to have expectations for me that would lead to disappointment. I mean if they are going to be disappointed, then let’s get it all done up front – right?

My mother could hardly have been surprised. She always said that I was delicate. I like that word. It seems to describe a petal or a piece of fine bone China. It makes me feel good to use it. Delicate.

Forever His
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

He paid for a little work to be done. He would like to be able to take me out and have me clinging to his arm – the woman who adores him. Maybe not quite the woman, but I do love him so much.

My Very Own Doll
A Small Plastic Fantasy
By Maryanne Peters

This is what she looked like when I first met Nat. She was striking poses just like this one. Working the costume just beautifully. The plastic sheen on the shaved legs was a great touch. The hair and the breasts were not real then. They are now.

The Pride of Wallaceville
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Wallaceville is just one of those towns in the corn belt pretty much like any other. It is a rural service town, as they say, where folks can drive from homesteads to get the things they need. It is not such a small town – there is a tractor dealership and a real supermarket as well as the usual strip of stores. And there are two churches, because the people of Wallaceville do like their religion.

Home Salon
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters