A Hillbilly Funeral
by
Rebecca Anna Coleman
Part Two of Three

I’m a nerd. I like being a nerd. I never had any other ambition. I’m also a boy. I like being a boy. I never had any other ambition.

I had just recently moved to Scottsdale, Arizona as a result of my mother’s death. My only living relative was going to allow me to stay with her for a couple of years, since there was no one else. Up to recently my Mom and I were living just outside of Amarillo, Texas on a small farm that my Dad used to operate.

He got killed several years ago when his tractor overturned as he drove it along a small stream next to one of his fields. He was caught under one of the wheels when it rolled over and he was squashed.

Alex Preswick-Walcutt and his journey to Whateley Academy

Asher stood in front of the bathroom mirror, his heart racing with anticipation. He had always loved the smooth, sleek look of shaved legs, and today he was enjoying the bliss for himself.

With a deep breath, he began to carefully shave his legs, the cool razor gliding over his skin, revealing the soft, hairless surface beneath.

Author's notes: As always: (1) I don't care what the devs say, Alisaie is absolutely not 16. By 6.0, she'd be about 23. (2) In a world where no one is explicitly gay or trans, that means anyone can be. Therefore, Alisaie and G'raha are T4T.

- - -

7.0 - SHARLYAN

G'raha was losing his mind.

Both because he badly missed his partners, Savvel and Alisaie, who had set sail for Tulliyolal two weeks and five days ago (the longest they'd been apart since making their arrangement 'official'), and because it was the longest he'd been celibate in... well...

Unable to find a job after flunking out of high school, my Mom had given me several accounts in her cleaning business. All three were nightclubs, the cleaning had to be done in the early morning hours since the club was open late afternoon and evening till 2 A.M.

The job was not hard, me being eighteen allowed me to work at the club because they sold alcohol. Most of Mom’s other employees either too old to work early in the morning or too young to be in the club.

Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and without.

Celeste Rawlins moved with practiced efficiency through the eastern lot of Millridge State Park, her footsteps nearly silent on the forest floor. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the path ahead. After her morning classes had finished, she'd decided to follow up on the unsettling energy readings from yesterday's reconnaissance with Erica.

Chapter 8

The following morning, Willow told her father about Brent going to buy the drums and that the account will be emailed.

“You can pay for them out of my account, Dad, and transfer a thousand to the debit card account I use. When Maisie takes Gina and me into Coventry, I’d like to take them to a decent lunch. The way that Maisie has pitched in with everything is amazing.”

“That’s all right. I’ll do that tonight. Just make sure that you’re not Miss Moneybags. You may need that nest egg later on.”

“I’m not saying you don’t have good family members. Shit, you’re in it, so of course it does. But as a family, it’s fucked up. Know what I’m saying? It’s like, they don’t know the meaning of the word. What family’s supposed to be all about.”

By Penny Lane and Iona Laing