To Return Home

Thanks to Malady for his help editing and for ideas.

Cover image from Unsplash

2.5

The room started to spin as the blackness enveloped John. I felt as though my body was being ripped apart, piece by piece, each molecule separating from all the rest. I lost all sense of what was happening around me, and my mind focused on the link with him. Suddenly, it simply disappeared. I don’t know what happened with it. One moment, I could feel it, and the next there was simply nothing.

For a long time, I stared at the hologram in horror, but there was nothing to see. It was entirely black. Was my husband still there? I couldn’t tell from that at all.

I looked around, and found everyone staring at me. Dumbly, I asked, “Could the tricam have burnt out? That was a bright flash.”

For several minutes, no one answered, then Marc said, “No. The tricam doesn't use any standard light sensors. It measures the light differently. There's no way to overload the sensors.”

Graphic created by Patricia Marie Allen.
Background from Pixabay, model photo by Spencer Russell on Upsplash

My name is Rose. I’m about five foot eight, and I’ve got light red hair; pretty close to strawberry blonde. All in all, I'm a pretty normal woman.

I was at the SWEET (South Western Exposition for the Embetterment of Transpeople) convention along with eleven other women named Rose. Each of us had given a nickname so that we could be distinguished between each other. One of the women was dressed like a cowgirl, or at least someone from the country, and seemed very reluctant to say anything. When she insisted she be called Jeff, I figured whatever was eating her must have a terrible case of indigestion. I figured she wanted to be left alone, and was chatting with a woman sitting beside me, when one of the women suggested that we all give our stories of how we came to be called Rose.

Author’s note: This story is sort of a crossover fanfic, although it could perhaps stand on its own. Being a crossover, it includes people from two television franchises. I can safely say that I own none of the people from either of those “worlds” included herein, nor do I intend any copyright infringement.

It was tempting to simply post this as is, but considering how much trouble it was to write without giving away identities, but still have people act at least somewhat correctly, I decided to post it as it really is. Decipher the story within reason, and the title, and you should figure out who these people are.

And now, on with the story!

-=#=-

The Offspring of Backward Rodents Long Journey to the Fabled Land Encircled by their Cousin's Cemetery

Graphic created by Patricia Marie Allen from photos on Pixabay.com

Thorn in the Flesh

By Rosemary

I entered the bar with great trepidation. I hadn’t had any problems in several years of being a woman, but I had just had some terrible news. No, I take that back. It wasn’t terrible at all. It was a relief. I had developed lymphatic cancer, and like every other case, it was ravaging my body.

I was reluctantly taking part in a meeting of eleven other ‘Roses’ while we were at the SWEET (South Western Exposition for the Embetterment of Transpeople) convention. I sat down and started taking in the other Roses there.

Most of them seemed to be much more comfortable in their role as women than I was. I had actually been quite comfortable for many years, but I had never been transgendered. I glanced down at my jeans and western shirt. They were women’s – they had to be. Men’s clothing would have been ridiculous on me.

Chapter 3

August 30^th, 2021

9 AM

Colonel Johnson sat behind his desk and happily read through the orders he’d gotten from above. The wrecked plane was no longer considered a secret. He was somewhat surprised that the orders came through as quickly as they did, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.

He quickly called Mike and filled him in. As soon as he got off the phone, he knew Mike was going to be making some calls to see if he could figure out anything new.

Thanks to Malady for his help editing and for ideas.

I’d also like to apologize in advance for the bending of physical laws in the following chapter. I suppose in my defense, I’ve been watching some lectures from the Royal Institute lately, and maybe it’s gotten me thinking a bit more – sideways?

To Return Home

2.3

John and I were in The Heavens Rose and I was trying to think, which was something I always did better in my kitchen. He had offered to help me, but was instead sitting on a stool placed in a corner where he could see me. It wasn't that I didn't want his help, but that we’d found that I would process things better while cooking, rather than explaining what needed done..

The Arctic Fox 2

Once more, special thanks to Malady for his help editing.

– Rosemary

Chapter 2.1

August 19^th, 2021

9 AM

Marcia Chatham ran out of the house and jumped into the old Mustang beside her boyfriend, Darryl. After their good morning kiss, they hurried to their first yard of the morning as part of their jobs working for Marcia’s older brother, Chet, doing yardwork for different people on the Air Force Base. They crossed McDonald Place, where two days before, they had discovered something in the ground. They didn’t know what it turned out to be, as Darryl’s dad, the CO of the base, had ordered that it be kept secret until they could determine more about it.

Thanks to Malady for his help editing and for ideas.

To Return Home 2.2

"I don't give a damn who it is, Bernie! I don't want you linking with anyone down there again!"

I stopped on my parent's porch. I had been reaching out to open the door, but now, hearing Daddy yelling, I wasn't sure I wanted to walk in on them. All three of us girls had a standing invitation to simply walk in, as did all of them, including Mama and Daddy, at our homes.

I had a particular reason to not want to walk in on this particular squabble. Mama was doing a favor for me. Apparently Amos was able to connect to others again. It frightened all of us. What was to stop him from trying to control us? I was very much afraid. Controlling me was something he might want to do to get to John.

Thanks to Malady for his help editing and for ideas.

To Return Home 2.1

Daddy pitched the idea of the five-person leadership to the others as if the idea was his own. I didn’t think for a moment, however, that the others believed it, but at least they were gracious enough to pretend they did.

I had suggested that I be responsible for preserving our culture, but now I found that, somehow, the medical aspect of our culture came under my purview as well. I guess it had to do with the need for good health for morale, or morale for good health: one or the other.

Special thanks to Malady for his help in editing and ideas.

The Letters Chapter 5

Suddenly, Grace stood up. "Let's take a little trip."

"Where?" Greg asked.

"The future," she said grinning."

"Wait a minute!" Future exclaimed.  "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"You never think anything's a good idea."

"None of yours are!"

"Only from your point of view, Gregory."

"Fine," the old man said.  "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Greg asked again.

"Haven't you been listening, Kid?" Future asked. "We're heading to right here, only in the future."

"Sorry," Greg told him.  "I should have said, 'When are we going?'"

As soon as he said it, he figured what the answer would be, and his speculation was proved correct.

Smiles Everyone. Smiles!

A short story by Rosemary

Special thanks to Malady for his help editing.

Brad Tyler.

He had just turned eleven years old, and he hadn’t gotten much in the way of presents for his birthday. In fact, all he had gotten was a twenty-five dollar check from both sets of grandparents.

His dad, Bill, was being laid off from his job as a groundskeeper from the local hospital, so his parents weren’t able to get him anything really. He understood, and was grateful for the fifty dollars he’d received.

Thanks to Malady for his help in editing this!

I woke up sometime later. I was in my bed, and Mama was sitting in a chair beside me, keeping watch.

“How long have I been out, Mama?”

“A couple of hours, Rosie.”