A friendly place to read, write and discuss Transgender Fiction.
Home of 3000+ chapters of Easy as Falling off a Bike by Angharad and many other stories.
Trapped in a suffocating cycle of control and neglect, in this chapter, Emily struggles to endure the relentless demands of her mother. Each day brings backbreaking chores, bitter compromises, and the gnawing ache of isolation. As she clings to fading memories of the Carters and whispers promises of escape, a fragile spark of defiance begins to grow within her, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the bleak monotony of her world.
Hunter is facing a summer of solitude due to his condition, but maybe there is hope for attending a
different summer camp? Attending would mean some changes, though...
I am truly thrilled that you enjoyed Chapter 1. I hope that you enjoy Chapter 2 as well!
Who hasn’t had a bad day? But Capt. Wainright’s rapidly went downhill after answering a distress call only to wake up from suspended animation in the wrong body—that of a 15 year old girl! His ship now overrun by heavily armed troops, he (or she), will just have to soldier on—it’s going to get worse before it gets better!
“What was I thinking? Maybe you should ask your son, or I should more correctly say, daughter, was thinking? That is entirely the pertinent question at hand,” she answered back with a calm and authoritative manner to her voice.
Miss Benson was pushing all the wrong buttons with my Mother. My Mom didn’t become successful by being stupid and she didn’t like to be pushed around, not at all!
“YOU KILLED MY SON! You took him away from me forever! YOU BITCH!!”
The Following is a letter I wrote Dr. Laura some years ago in response to a call from a woman who had discovered that her husband of 35 years was transgendered.
Please keep in mind most names, and some specific details, have been altered, to limit the amount of Strife within those associated within whom may come in contact with this.
This is the parody story to my poem I am a Girl, please enjoy...
Synopsis: Derek a very bright young man, is a very unique individual. Who happens to possess extraordinary abilities, from family genetics. But the most unique thing about him is that he is a transgender girl, and happens to be a Witch and a Gypsy and the first Witch and Gypsy in her family tree in several hundreds of years. As soon as one problem occurs and is nearly fixed another comes Derek's now Morwen's way.
“You were the uh…boy Rebecca found in the girl’s restroom, is that right?”
I blushed a bit, “Yeah. Sorry about that. The men’s restroom was…”
“I got a report that the toilet was overflowing around that time too. Was that you?”
I had forgotten about that, “Well, yeah, but all I did was flush it. Someone had been sick in there.”
“And yesterday you disturbed the pep rally fighting with Miss LaRue.”
“I wasn’t fighting! She pushed me!”
Principal Arnold just gave me a look, and I shut up. “Is there something going on I need to know about?”
“How can that be?” I asked, fearing her answer would match the one in the book. I remember reading something about opposite readings. I thought about Jerry at the office today. Then a sudden flash of recall. The tiny courtroom stenographer in my mind read back last night's transcript, 'These readings usually came from folks that identified as trans-gendered.'
Our lips parted. Her sweet, pretty face was flushed. Her lipstick had smudged and I wondered if mine had too.
She grabbed a couple of tissues from a box on the small table and gently wiped away my tears.
I did the same for her; it was such a tender moment.
Michael Cohen's dream was to protect and serve as a police officer.... That job didn't satisfy him until one day, when people without names came to visit. He wanted to make a difference, but he didn't expect it to make a difference to him, too...
Lainey sat at Diane's kitchen table, her half-eaten tuna melt (with tomato) sitting in front of her. Diane had retrieved her photo album from the dining room and was looking through it for the one picture that would help Lainey.
Deirdre watched Mina and Riddler move to commit what quiet mayhem they could manage while trying to ignore the muttering Anthalas was doing to enable the spell in support of Riddler’s mission to wet all the powder for the cannon on the walls of Leslie Castle to happen without the thief returning for refills on the water bag he carried.
Work was a total drag. Once again I was way off during the presentation, and it was embarrassing. I couldn't get my mind off the book, last night, the change...and tonight. If the book was accurate, and it had been so far, I'd be changing into a woman again at moon rise. Try working with that in the back of your mind!
“We have a question for you.” It was the redneck Charles Dubois and two other guys who bore more than a passing resemblance to the hyenas in the Lion King, only without the witty repartee.
“Yeah,” one of them said. “we have a question for you.” As if Charles had been particularly clever in calling what the three of them were about to try to do to me a “question”.
“Are you a girl faggot? Or a boy faggot?”
“Yeah, what kind of faggot are you, faggot?”
Chapter 1 had a ton of information. It began by saying, “Chances are, if you are gazing upon this book, the information within applies to YOU.” Check.
Mom let go of my lips, pushed my head to the side and whispered, "Glyph Shield: Thurisaz!"
There was a loud boom and I closed my eyes, hugging mom tightly. Then I heard two voices, male and female, saying, "What the hell?!!!"
I opened my eyes. Mom's face was one of shock, so I looked behind. Uriel's face was a picture of outrage. Between us, was a spear with its tip buried to the ground. I can barely make out the word 'Amphillogiai'.
Mom suddenly let out a great laugh, "Uriel, it seems like your old friend has something to say about your habit of abducting brides."
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Joyce Melton
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Note: $6000 is the operating, maintenance and upgrade budget. Amounts received in excess of the $6000 will be applied to long term debt accrued over the last 19 years.
Dedications:"For Emily"
For Stanman: "He was always there to offer a kind word and encouragement."
"In loving memory of
Robyn Lovelace
My life partner,
my life's love, my friend"
-- Karen J. Taylor
This site is dedicated to the
memory of lost friends
and particularly for
Jeanne Gerrib,
Rick Buhs, and
Bob Arnold.
-- Joyce Melton
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