Somewhere in Heaven (probably downtown, where all the freeways come together in a great gleaming golden bow of an interchange...) is an office building the size of Mount Everest, in which angels with massive ledger books and quill pens keep the balance of our sins. When we do or think something bad it is noted in our account summary, and when we go to confession the priest gives us the bill for whatever we declare, and as we do penance our balance is brought back to zero. The Church is nothing if not well-organized.

I knew that the key to ever being able to behold this magnificent skyscraper or any of the other marvels, monuments, rides & attractions that Heaven has to offer was in making sure you didn’t die when you were in the red. But certain thoughts and deeds of mine seemed too strange & terrible to ever admit to, so I confessed to invented sins that I hoped would be bad enough to stand in for those shameful wanting-to-be-a-girl ones. It was a pretty nifty system I had worked out. Until that Sunday when I was twelve, when my whole clever scheme came crashing down around me!

A Gender Retirement

By BethanyDaWade

A little story about dreams and reality that I wrote and submitted for the May contest, a little mayday at the end is it's only qualification, but I hope you like it.

Chapter 12
By Samantha Jenkins

I woke up to being gently shaken by Katie. She was already dressed, her wet hair hanging in a high ponytail.

“Wake up Morgan, you need to go get a shower. Jennifer will be out in a second. Your mom picked out some clothes for you to wear, they are on your bed.” I smiled up at her from my place on the air mattress. Katie offered her hand.

“See, Told you.” Sarah said to Mom. Sarah was still wearing the pink sleeveless dress that she had worn on the flight down.

I could see her, smiling — no, smirking! — holding out that damn cell phone. One click! flash! and I would never hear the end of it.

Lost and Found Again
By Missy Crystal

This is the final part of the Lost and Found Series. Although it can be read on its own, I recommend reading the first two parts ("Lost and Found" and "Found and Lost") for context. For those who have followed the story, but forgotten it, for which delay in completion I apologize, Jack Blaine is an investigator hired to find a transgendered boy who left home. While searching the transgendered community, he meets Penny Johnson, the transgendered director of a GLBT outreach program. Jack falls in love with Penny, but their relationship ends when he asks her to marry him and give up her work. She turns down his proposal and they break up. Now Jack realizes he made a mistake and sets out to win her back. Can they find hapiness togther? The conclusion of a romantic novel.

15-year-old peter was feeling rotten about himself as he walked to his house. He didn’t how he was going to fix it but he felt like a ass. He hung his head down as he walked down the sidewalk. He couldn’t help it, he felt really ashamed.

I was really starting to hate those dogs. I just wanted to go home. I was scared and even my little friend was showing he was scared. I was really hoping that I would not run into anyone. I have no idea what I would say to them, and this stupid machine isn’t giving up any of its secrets either. Why would anyone make it so hard, to find the rules to this game.

This wasn’t actually the first time nanites had been a terrorist threat - some Islam terrorist group had been trying to release a variation of GDD.
All it did was convert people into corpses. By eating their brains. Nanozombies. Urgh…

They wiped out the threat with massive a massive EMP - electro-magnetic pulse. Huge success. Nanobots all wiped out. No deaths. Pretty much a first for the US. *giggle*

After GDD, they tried the EMP solution.

It… didn’t work.

Angel carefully opened the case. Inside was one of the most beautiful Classical Guitars she had ever seen. “Oh my gosh, is this your guitar Raul?”

“No, mi chica, it is your new guitar, and here is a history of your new guitar in Spanish and English.” Raul said, handing her a bound folder.

“You're not taking my old guitar away, are you grandfather?”