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.

For Him
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I think that I am smart for a fourteen year old. I mean, I am really good at school, but I think that I know people, and I think that is what being really clever is all about. And I knew my father better than anybody else does, including him. I certainly knew him better than Mom ever did.

I don’t mean to say anything bad about Mom. She died three years ago in a car accident. I was only eleven but that is an age when I think that you understand everything pretty well. I did.

Visited Upon the Father
Following the “Sins of the Son”
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I carry my father’s name. I am Vernon Michaels Junior, just called “Junior” at home. Home was with my mother, as my father had been thrown out years before, and he was actually living in the town where I was going to college, and had a small place near the campus.

My father proudly called me “a chip off the old block”. He said that he got into a spot of trouble at college. He said that he would give the best advice – “Don’t get caught”.

Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
A Short Retelling of History
By Maryanne Peters

Aye, it is a heavy burden to have the fate of an entire nation borne upon your shoulders. More so when that nation has such a fine tradition of bravery and resourcefulness. Surely the Scots are special folk. I only wish that their hero could have been strong enough to live up to the expectation.

Destiny
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It seems so commonplace today, that to explain to somebody that your father now lives as a woman called Florence is unlikely to surprise people the way it used to.

The Woman He Deserves
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I said it to Hannah: “How can she do that? It is like she is tormenting him.”

It was supposed to be a double date, but Tammy had insisted on bringing a friend. A man friend to make five at the table. Then she spent the whole night playing footsie under the table with Rafe (that was his name), while Jack was right there. I could see it, and I was damn sure my date Hannah could see it too.

But Hannah’s response left me cold.

Skater Girl
A Short Story from my Latest Anthology on Amazon
By Maryanne Peters

A Different Life
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Three Weeks After

Doctor Gillies steepled his fingers. It was not a gesture he did often – not anymore. He had done his stint in general surgery, but now that he had found his niche he understood that he needed to be more empathetic. He was, in the main. But now was the time for plain talking. This patient, Alex, needed to be told.

Family Counselling
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Scene 1 The Consulting Rooms of Dr. M T Shieff

“I am sympathetic to your position, but I also have ethical considerations.” As he spoke Doctor Martin Shieff was thinking about a solution that could accommodate this young man. He liked him. His daily fodder was the anxious and the depressed but here he faced somebody who seemed to be in control, albeit directing his considerable intellect towards antisocial behavior.

Tau Gamma Beta
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Hayley had been all lined up to board with a relative who had a place right near college and I was all set to be in the Pi Theta Kappa fraternity, being a provisional member, but things had not gone right for either of us. What do you do in a crisis? You get drunk.

“I learned something about Pi Theta Kappa today,” I complained. “They are a bunch of arrogant pricks! In particular, that Dylan Hobbs, who seems to be the leader of the pack. He has it in for me.”

Lolita Revisited
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I never thought that this kind of thing happened for real, but there are strange people out there.

I suppose my mother was strange too. She always had a hankering to see me dressed as a girl. She told me that she did it when I was a baby, dressing me in pink just because she liked to hear people say: “What a pretty little girl”. Any chance to put me in a dress for Halloween or fancy dress she always said: “Go as a princess. Let me get you the outfit.”

The Way to Go
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Sex is one of the major drivers of humanity – in fact, it is the first driver. Money and power came later. They are social constructs. Sex is why we exist. We are here because of it, and our purpose is driven by it.