Catching Up
By Marissa Lynn

"Come on Mitch, stop squirming."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Oh stop whining, Mitch. You can't be having that bad of a time. And remember it's for the views, right?" Cassie asked as she applied the eyeliner along his left lower lash line.

"Besides, it's what we do for our art and sometimes, we suffer for our art, right? It's for the Dynamic Four, after all," Todd said

Author’s note - After finishing the updated story of Laurence I was finding it very difficult to lay the story down. I knew that if I continued, then it would get dark and I knew that I couldn’t avoid that. As readers you may appreciate my dilemma or say it would have been better to leave it as it was?

This is written as a separate short story so readers can avoid the ending that appears here. I needed to write it, but you don’t need to read it although I hope some of you do.

Marcia woke with a start. She'd heard something in her sleep which didn't come from the engines or the gentle rocking of the “Blue Canoe.”

It came from the other bed in the room. She lay quietly again for a few moments until she heard another sniff. It didn't seem like the product of a cold or allergies. This sounded like someone hurting. She debated for a few minutes, wondering if she should just let Heather cry it out. When she heard the multiple exhalations of a weep, however, her compassion took over.

Isn’t Life Strange?
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I was on holiday with my husband Mike and his two boys by his first marriage, and we were visiting a brewery in Colorado. They served what looked like a great lunch, so we sat down for a meal, to be washed down with one of their craft beers. I have to confess that I still prefer beer to wine, even after all these years post transition.

Part 4

“Girls, I wouldn’t have spent it if we couldn’t. You know I do the books for the business, and I can tell you that we do very well. We owe nothing on the house and land because they’ve come down through the family; the original truck fleet were bought just after the war for next to nothing, and the tank transporters came out of a military auction. The Burrells cost about fifty pounds each, so I was told, and are now worth over a quarter of a million, each.”