(This is a different story for me, but one that underlies those who wait for others to give them direction or make decisions for them. Hopefully, in time each of us accepts who we are and learns to live with ourselves.)

Authors Note: I fully do intend to get back to my story Merlin’s Curse. Though, at this time I have had an idea for another story that has just not left me alone. This is unlike anything I've ever written before it is something that could actually happen in real life. I have always stuck with stories that have either a fantasy or SCI-Fi connection. I do not know where this story will take me and I think that is half the fun.

It all began when Simon woke up, one April morning...

Ever get tired of the religious right telling you that being a transsexual is a sin, that you are an abomination, that you're going to hell. You know they are wrong, but never knew why or how to explain it. Now, in one post, a christian defense of what God really says about transsexuals.

How strange. I had no desire to dress up in drag today when I saw the dresses. Come to think of it, a few weeks back, I found my stash of jewelry: the peridot flower dangly earrings and matching necklace, the faux ruby earrings and bracelet, my "goth girl" accoutrements. BUT I didn't find the urge to dress.

I felt curious and like a kid poking the bruise to see how much it hurt, I conjured up images of my past...

"Stupid skirt!" Beth was mad.

The trip to the professors office had been a waste of time.

I was reading yet another petticoat punishment story when my muse wanted to know what happens afterwards. This is my attempt to answer that.

It was just an ordinary cottage. Not made of gingerbread or standing on giant chicken's legs or anything. Just an ordinary, if a little run down, cottage. Moss on the roof, ivy on the walls. Tiny windows with thick, bulbous panes of glass. The privy stood separate from the main building at the opposite end of a small garden, most of which was given over to herbs and vegetables. A goat stood patiently at the end of its tether, staring at me with its freakish eyes.

I've never been able to stare down a goat; the eyes are just too weird.

Sweet Dreams-49 Tears of My Childhood

Chapter 49

I put my head to Alex’s and we sit there just breathing while he get’s it together and he finds the strength. It’s actually a pretty big deal the he’s even gone there with all of his family around and I’m going to chalk it up to maybe me having my freak out moment stirring things up in him with this in his head coming up.

(Copyright 2013)