After a lot of fun Toni really knuckles down to work. She’s been given the freedom and opportunity to really show what she can do in her job, maybe the opportunity to keep her job. However the freedom comes in extraordinarily handy when she faces her first crisis, all alone and anxious for reasons she can’t understand.

The question is whether the nascent Toni is strong enough to handle this? And whether she can even begin to handle it? What she does could determine where she goes next. Is Toni ready for what Toni? Or is the warning Big-G gave her about setbacks coming true faster than she could ever have expected?

The next email from ‘Uncle Vanya’ arrived just after the sun had set for the day. Sergei had watched the light of the day ending from the west terrace of his home.

Orphan Petal

July 2023 - Part 1

Shirley has changed and is doing things he would never have done a few months ago

This is a spin-off to the story "The Teenage Years of Alexander Horten"

Ice cream can be used for many things!

The idea of me having a date with Leland Frick, the team photographer, almost caused a riot. By this time, there seemed to be sixteen girls —including me, damnit!— left at the party, and all of them had one thing to discuss: my supposed date.

Chapter 33

Wilhelm led the three of us off and the orchestra followed. Over some refreshments Kelly announced that tomorrow afternoon was a full-dress rehearsal with the press attending, starting at three so that we could stay dressed for the Friday night performance, if we didn’t spill any drinks on our outfits.

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

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 19 – In the swim

When I awoke it was late evening. I could see that the sky was dark outside. I sat up on the bed to see my hostess across the room. She had a jacket on and was about to exit by the apartment door.

“You’re awake, sleepy. Sorry I disturbed you. How do you feel now?”

“Okay, I guess.”

The man with the unruly mane of long, dark hair stepped into the dimly lit club, his eyes scanning the room with a sense of detachment that had become a habit. His hair, a cascade of midnight strands, flowed down his back like a rebellious river. It was his signature, a defiant statement against conformity, and an unspoken challenge to a world that preferred neatly cropped conformity. He was no stranger to curious glances, smirks, and whispered comments as he moved through the crowd. Tonight, however, would be different.