As the rain continues Dennis finds that his options have become less and less. Time for a left-field solution, one which leaves him wondering if he is doing the right thing.

Scratch!

an amusement by Penny Lane

2 of 3 - Bank Holiday Monday

Charlie and the Mrs.
By Sabrina G. Langton

***

Author's Note: Mmm, a nice little slice of life, some background history, just two people with a past. Nothing too sordid, nothing that you wouldn't see coming, just two people whose yearly trysts make their lives better and more fulfilling... I hope YOU like it.

***

Hmm... I absolutely love this. Some things you just never get tired of.

"You had the ball! I had to tackle you!"

There are days when you can see your whole life in a coffee cup, I guess. I certainly could, today.

Allie - The teenage years of Alexander Horten

March 20-26, 2016

Surprise! Part of my "no longer a stranger" campaign. Have some Min.

Please enjoy.

The worst-looking car in the company lot was Jerry’s. It made no sense to Ron. Jerry was, pardon the expression, a hell of an engineer, and a beloved mentor to his younger colleagues. His skills were rare. Knowing so, he did all he could to pass them on, for his responsibility was an arcane but critically essential part of the company’s flagship product. Tens of billions of dollars worth sold; not Apple, but you’d know the name.

“Okay,” Carmen conceded, “if multiple bodies is a core part of your identity, it’s probably fine to take them all to the protest. But venning into multiple bodies for the protest just to inflate the numbers —”

“Which way now?” asked Sylvie when she drove us away from the Post Office.

I thought for a moment before replying,
“I’m trying to put myself in the shoes of those two idiots and their father. They will have seen the North Carolina plates on this, and will more than likely be thinking that we’ll be heading back there as fast as we can.”

 
Is it a rabbit, or is it a duck? Or is it, perhaps, something wholly unexpected?

Allie - The teenage years of Alexander Horten

March 13-19, 2016

"Mrs. Bamford. I needed to move the wardrobe to get to the window to finish painting it."

"No problem Terry. Can you manage it? It's heavy."

I liked Mrs. Bamford. She was mid 50's, and always dressed well. She exuded femininity. I admired that so much. I had done several small jobs for her. My handyman business was really starting to take off. I hoped that it could grow and I could give up my job at the fast food restaurant.

"Yes, I only need to slide it across the floor a few feet. Even I can manage that."

This was insane.

Floria dove into a shell hole, trying to keep her shotgun out of the muck as a Dark Hound came charging out of the smoke. Rolling onto her back, she fired into the chest of the demon a second before it landed on her.

Please note, I've posted a revision to the earlier chapter, with significant changes, and there are significant changes in this one, too.

“Now Jackson, I’m aware of what happened with Ned, and all I can say is, don’t let it bother you, son. Be a tough guy, don’t let him get to you. Now, I’m sure you are a bit upset over that, and I’m willing to help you work off some of that weight. Just let me know if I can help. Now, we’re playing dodge ball today, get out there and show them what you got!” says Coach.

On and off that day, I thought about that Missing Child poster I’d seen and what Mom and Dad were feeling and thinking about all this. Did they know I was trans by now? They almost certainly knew I’d venned into a girl body at least once; they’d have heard from Tim’s parents by now, even if the police hadn’t told them about the details of their investigation and what they’d learned from Meredith and Sophia.

Sandy wasn’t just my spouse. I made it very clear to the professionals we hired for the campaign that there was no better political mind on the planet. Sandy almost never dipped an oar into my campaigns anymore, but I told the campaign staff, on no uncertain terms: “If Sandy says jump, you ask ‘how high?’ Don’t wait to talk to me.”

Dreams, Spells, and Closet Monsters - 2
Copyright 2022 by Heather Rose Brown

[central Smithfield, NC]

“I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming,” said Sylvie when I arrived in the diner.

"I had a bit of personal business to take care of. That's all done so we can get out of here."

“Where are we going now?”

I was just about to lose my lunch when I feel an arm snake around my waist, and someone else sit beside me on the bench. Strange, I think, the bullies in this little town usually begin by throwing my stuff in the trash and knocking me around a bit.

“It’s OK Jackson, those girls abuse everyone,” says a soft voice behind me. Turning around, I see several girls I don't know, along with my best friend and neighbor Deanna with her arm around me.

“Are they always like that?” I ask, putting my head back on the picnic table.

I got my feet out from under the table in case I had to run.

3. Juicebox

Never too Old

A Vignette

By Maryanne Peters