BOOK OF CHANGE
BY
thomas_the_tame

I'd never felt lower in my life. My marriage was officially over. I'd been gone for almost a week on business, and when I returned, the place was clean of everything that could in anyway be construed as "hers". Standing in the empty bedroom, reflecting on our marred union, I thought of Katie, my little girl, and wondered when I'd see her again. Marilyn had warned me, of course, had begged me to attend counseling, but pride was my master in more ways than one.

I did put my CD earphones on with the Institute CD playing while I fell asleep. I was so "programmed" to wear the headset at night, listening to their message. I was in heaven it seemed. I was so happy, what was going on in my brain? Should this lifestyle be mine for the rest of my life?

Karen watched the rain pelt the living room window, transfixed by the embodiment of her torment in the wrath of the storm. Lightning split the charcoal sky and the house trembled with an almighty thunderclap.

Dear educators and fellow students, a reminder, our assignment states that our stories may be fiction or real, it is up to you to judge.

 
WARNINGS: Contains transgender themes, Sci-Fi, explicit sex, mild violence, bad words, and strange ideas. It has only the strange things that dribble from my head. If you are not old enough, mature enough, open minded enough, and especially not smart enough to stop reading should you find yourself becoming offended viewing such a story, don't!

I “Saw” That

A TG take on Saw
By: Willy Mays Hayes

The man walked down the street, it was a dark, cold night. The man’s name was John Cornell and he was a pedophile. He had molested over seventy small girls and had yet to be caught. He fancied himself and expert, having honed his “craft” over many years. His methods had never changed, on nights such as this, he merely walked until finding a suitable target. Not that they were hard to find, there were many homeless girls living in the shadows of the alleys of the city. And this night was no different.

Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind? Perhaps, for some, it’s for the best.