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

My Daddy Man
A Little Story written for a sissy fan
By Maryanne Peters

He may not be the best-looking man in the world, or the strongest, but I am his girl and that is all the matters to me.

When I think of all the years I wasted being Stephen sometimes I feel like bursting into tears. Sometimes I do, just because I can. Girls like me cry often. Not tragic tears, just boo hoo tears. I am like a little girl, which exactly how I want to be.

Couch Surfer
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Carl liked the freedom of being jobless, but he could never be one of the homeless. His simple rule was to engage with people, and he was good at that. He told stories that were believed – things like “I had all my stuff stolen – I just need somewhere to stay for a few days until the insurance comes through.”.

My Old Man
A Vignette from a borrowed image
By Maryanne Peters

It doesn’t seem to be used so much these days – not since Joni Mitchell saw him taken away in the big yellow taxi, but it seems right to call him that. He is old and he is a man, and I am neither of those. And he is mine, I suppose. I am definitely his.

The Heart of January Bliss
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I don’t know where she came from. That is the funny thing about being a creator. Sometimes it is not a deliberative process – it just happens. She just happened.

Sure, I was looking for a new comic strip to develop and publish, and I had read somewhere that strips are more often read by men. So, I suppose the idea was that I would come up with a strip that women could enjoy.

Dad’s Style
An Illustrated Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

We always thought of my father as being the most masculine of men. He was fairly big with a square jaw and a strong nose, but people will always say that the features that made him stand out were his bright blue eyes and his huge mop of grey hair.

Karma
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

People like me get used to casual racism. We learn to just nod and get on with it. Asian people are never threatening, or that seems to be what European people think. Many are small like me with poorly developed muscles and have little facial hair. Sometimes it seems as if Europeans think of us as childlike because of it. Certainly, nobody expects us to react with anger.