Cerridwen and the Loch Ness Monster

According to family legend, dozens of my ancestors on my daddy side of the family, fought and died under the banner of Charles Edward Stuart, and when he was defeated at the Battle of Culloden they were forced to flee to the colonies, and somehow later ended up here in Mississippi. I don't know how true that story is. But I do know, my dad always wished to see Scotland, to him it was that fable homeland. He was proud as a peacock of the few remaining traces of Scottish blood that flowed in his veins.

HOW I BECAME STEPHANIE

(MY OLD NAME AND FAMILY NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT IDENTITIES OF THIS LIFE STORY)

CHAPTER 1

The table was covered in finger foods. Pointing at one that looked like it was peaches in a steaming purple sauce, the dish floated up and came over to me, putting a single piece of fruit on my plate. Using my fork I cut off a small piece, and gave it a taste. As it melted in my mouth, it had an odd flavour of a sweet peach, and a slightly sour taste that worked really well together, keeping both flavours from being too strong.

Keeping my knees and ankles together was difficult for me, holding them together in a upright position worked the best for me and to have my legs at a angle looked better and more feminine but it was even harder to sit in that position for any length of time.

Mom could see this so she had me cross my legs and wala that was the answer for me, it really felt way more comfortable and natural crossing my legs, so that became my sitting position from that morning on, plus I really kinda loved it.

“I can imagine,” Mage replied. “Can we talk a bit?”

Stephen beckoned her inside, but she said, “Maybe out in the garden?”

He followed her out to the garden bench. It was a typical iron and 1x3 board bench, but instead of being in a flower garden, it was in between giant cabbages, each with heads over a foot in diameter, and pumpkins that would end up being over 100 or more pounds because of the incredible growing conditions in the Matanuska Valley.

Continuing the tradition I started last year of posting a horror story for Hallowe'en.

The Master of Cuts

by

Rodford Edmiston