Absinthe, Opium and Honor…Chapters 7 & 8.

Chapter Seven.

I know I’m literally just getting started on this path I’m on. But you know dressed in my pink Nike breast cancer tee-shirt and my faded but girls jeans. Shopping out in the Sunday sun with a really good looking, decent guy who knows what I am and he doesn’t care in fact he’s touching my arm and just me with that kind of sort of together thing.

I feel like a girl, I feel pretty even this dressed down. I feel like me. I can’t stop smiling.

As the train pulled away from the platform I stepped into the carriage and looked for my reserved seat that I hoped was in a quiet position where I wasn’t too prominent. I’d deliberately booked a seat towards the end of the carriage because I wanted to be away from any onlookers who might notice the change that was about to occur.

This is it! This is the ultimate, the FINAL challenge. The one I have to solve to prove myself that I can overcome myself. That I beat myself through beating others. They have taught me all my live that this is the ultimate way that men behave like, through which they success. I want to be respected. And that's what I am right now.

“Yeah.” Mary Beth smiled. Then she looked to Tracy. “Is h..she okay?” She remembered the lecture about using the right words in time.

Both Mary Beth and her sister looked a little worried at the intensity of Sage's glare. “No.” Mary Beth said.

Thanks to Djkauf for the editing.

Please note, but to the almost graphic nature of this post, I upped the rating. I promise the fun stuff shall return someday.

As a transgendered archaeologist, I never expected that translating those ancient clay tablets would provide me with a personal link to the distant past.

On Sunday morning, Justin got up stealthily and tried to conceal his vomiting from his father. It didn't work, the simple layout of the house defeated him; the only bathroom was in between his bedroom and his father's.

"Are you okay, son?" Harold Bock asked.

"Yeah, Dad, I'll live." The nausea had seized him as he lay awake in his bed wondering if he would ever talk to Zoe again, talk to her alone. He'd probably see her at school, though she was a senior and he a sophmore. Their schedules would not naturally intersect that often.

This is a bit melancholy, but it wanted to be written and I just tried to keep up with what my muse was dictating. I hope you like it.

Song Credit to Ronnie Milsap: Lost In The 50s Tonight. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPDBGtr5asM
Lost In The Fifties Tonight, by Catherine Linda Michel

Oh yes, I remember... so, so well that night, the music, the feeling of being held in your arms, swaying together and hoping the moment would never end.

Close your eyes babyӬFollow my hear-eartӬ
Call on the mem'rie-ie-ies, ӬHere in the dar-ark
ӬWe'll let the magic Ӭ

Angel's Tale: A MORFS Universe Story By Joreymay

Angel really earns her microburgers. Closer to home, she works her "magic" on parents and learns her way around the school. And she actually gets to spend some time with family and friends.

Part 9

CHAPTER 13
Von was back in Hampshire a couple of days afterwards, so I had to fit in a trip down on the Monday, a day she wasn’t at work and I was able to squeeze a day’s leave in. I walked out of the Harbour station, HMS Warrior bulking beside it, and round to Gunwharf Quay, where I found her sitting in one of the coffee bars.

The bra`s they picked weren't exactly plain, in fact they all had lace trim on or over the cups, definately very fem looking.
When I asked mary if she had plain bra`s she gave me a look that made me feel as if I had committed the ultimate sin.
"If you want plain bra`s that might be a resonable fit try Tesco or Asda, but if you want a proper fitting bra that looks and feels good to wear then what you see is what I sell" she said

“What do you mean, young lady, bringing my daughter's would-be lover under my roof under false pretenses?”