We get to the doctors and signed in. It wasn’t long until we are called. They measure Charlie in height, weight, and blood pressure. They ask her if she has any allergies. She has a weird allergy to salmon oddly enough. Finally, we are sent to an examination room.

We sit in silence until Charlie breaks it with “I hate these rooms. The doctors always make you wait too long.”

“I know what you mean. They always like to make you nervous while you wait for them.”

“Do you think it’s an unspoken rule that you have to make your patients wait?”

The next day, I woke up earlier than usual. I did my morning run, did my hygiene and made breakfast just as a groggy Charlie came down rubbing her eyes.

I smile, “Good morning, princess.” Charlie doesn’t say anything, but gives me a tired smile and hugs me.

Charlie looks around and questions, “Where if Mrs. Blue?”

“Oh, Mom’s still asleep. She’s getting a little too old to wake up in the morning. Don’t tell her I said that.” Charlie giggles and we have breakfast.

'Helleluiah’ was their prayer

A second piece about being ‘different’ and how you might get treated by ‘Them’.

There comes a time when there is nothing to look forward to. When the past is filled with hurt and terror and shame and no expectation of improvement.

And, for some, there will be a turning point.

Two weeks flew by since I came back to Hattiesburg. It’s also been two weeks since I last saw Charlie. I can’t get him off my mind. He reminds me of me when I was his age. I really hope he isn’t like me, but it seems like he is. Getting bullied just because he’s smaller and weaker. Because he isn’t well off as other people. Just thinking about the little guy being beaten because of what he can’t control, makes me furious.

The caution is not for an actual rape, but an attempted one. There is no caution for attempted rape, so I used that one.

Samuel Thomas Kerrigan sat in his recliner in the living room of his tiny bachelor apartment, staring into a nearly empty long neck bottle. There were dozens of identical bottles scattered across the floor around his chair, and eleven more left in the case he had bought earlier today.

Hate, Hell, Hope & Halleluiah

Unloading some vile thoughts

‘Hateluiah’ was their song

Four somewhat linked pieces : mostly about the HATE that THEY spew at us for being ‘different’ in ways THEY say is unacceptable. When THEY do wrong things such as Abuse, Violence, Rape and Cruelty then they claim their misdeeds are somehow acceptable; when a man dresses as the opposite gender (while so many women do it without penalty) …. somehow this is wrong.

These pieces are labelled 'Z' to place them at the end of my stories.

There’s not much point in looking forward when everything has gone. I used to have a life I enjoyed, I felt worthwhile, even valued. But that was then. And this, this hateful now, is now.

A white-haired girl walks down the middle of the shadow of death. There is nothing in the barren wasteland besides craters and tree stumps. The wind kicks up the dirt and grime.The girl is not fazed by the flying layer of dust. Not a speck of the filth touches her beautiful fair skin and none penetrates her glowing blue eyes. She abruptly starts sprinting to the top of a hill and lays down. She unslings her rifle and aims at a black-haired, red-eyed man.

Hugh Blair was a man with a secret. None of his friends or family had inkling that he had what some would call a dark secret that if he had his way would never see the light of day. There were other things about his family that he hoped would also never surface but underneath them was the one that played on his mind more frequently in recent years.

Janet tried her hardest, but she couldn't prevent herself from breathing a sigh of relief as she pressed her employee pass against the scanner, officially ending another week of monotonous work. As Janet quickly discovered, though, she wasn't the only one feeling relieved.

"At. Last!" Rebecca- one of Janet's colleagues, a woman in her early thirties- giggled as she and a handful of her colleagues walked alongside Janet to the vast supermarket's locker room. "Dunno about you ladies, but I am in a mood to unwind!"

Time heals all wounds.

My father and don’t get a long, but that wasn’t always so
in real life he isn’t really my father, he is my stepfather
I never believed he could replace my real father, but he made mom happy.

How much of a woman?

How much of a woman could I make myself into – on the outside? I’m fifty, fat and full of wheeze – as a vulgar version of the song goes. And how can I satisfy girl-inside – who has been hiding since I was a kid. Was I aiming to be an old age mutton-dressed-as-lamb girly, or a strong woman-of-age?

Accidental descent into femininity

Chapter 1 Background and Recap

I have decided to write a diary, to document what is happening to me. I will have to recap from when it all started, but I am thinking of potentially publishing it anonymously on a TG site. I am hoping in writing this, that others will benefit from my weird life. Anyway, lets start with the recap and probably best to include a bit of background info.

Are You ‘The Man in the Dress’?

What have I done – what have I won? What am I doing? Why am I trying on a whole collection of new clothes? Clothes so very unlike anything I have ever worn before.

I’ve put 50 stories up so far. I was aiming for the next one to be kind of special rather than just ‘ok’ !!….. but it’s not up to me to judge. If you feel like hitting the ‘kudos’ button for my stories or for anybody else – please be generous. And maybe even drop a dollar into the kitty for Erin who on our behalf has spent much more money than is sensible.

Thanks AP

I knew that my bravado over the farm had not fooled Cheryl for one second but I needed some time to think.
That bloody TV show! If it hadn’t been for that I’d still be in Yorkshire in a dead-end job fixing bloody busses and not having to fight my emotions like I was right now.

Then I looked around me. At the sea. At the sky. At the village behind me. This was a far cry from a former pit village in South Yorkshire and a job fixing busses, it wasn’t all bad.
However, I just wanted to curl up and die each time I remembered that TV show.

When I arrived home, I saw that there were two messages on my answer-phone. Both were from Holly saying that they were at their place and that Diana was safe. That made me feel happy but the long day had been very tiring.

I rose early on the Sunday morning and went for a long run. I needed to get the stiffness from a lot of time in the saddle out of my limbs. By the time I returned home I was feeling a lot better and ready for a nice large breakfast. I opted for what I called a ‘Full Welsh’. This was grilled bacon with Poached Eggs on Toast with a side order of Cockles. It wasn’t to everyone’s taste due to the cockles but as the Eggs were from my hens, the Bacon from Pembrokeshire and the Cockles from near Llanelli, you could hardly be more Welsh than that.

The rest of the day was quiet which was perfect for me.