Apparently, I am on a roll. Two chapters in one day is nothing shy of amazing for me.

Comments are welcome, of course.

Sister, Sister, Sister - Part 4
By Missy Crystal

Twelve year old Johnny wants to play Barbies with his sisters, but Barbies are for girls. How can Johnny join the game? A sweet, sentimental story about a young boy's discovery of the girl he should have been with the help of his sisters and mother. This is a story I wrote a couple of years ago and I am posting it here for those who would like to know more about Dr. Jenny Mitchell. It is complete, for those who anguish over being left hanging, but too long for a single post.

“Mfanwy, Mfanwy Morgan, could I have a word please?”

Why was Miss B calling me Mfanwy?

“Sure Miss Bell, what’s up?”

“Could you follow me please?”

Oh-oh, am I in trouble? What’s wrong now?

I followed Miss B into a conference room. As soon as I entered, on the opposite side of the room, I saw the three boys that assaulted me last week in the boy’s loo, standing by the blackboard, looking uncomfortable. I froze in place with a terrified look on my face. I was just about to turn and run when Miss B gently grabbed me and led me the rest of the way into the room. I noticed six other adults I didn’t recognize, sitting around the table in the center of the room. I assumed them to be the parents of the three boys. Miss Cowlishaw and Mr. Pilling were there also.

Hannah tries to fend off cabin fever while she waits for Detective Johnson to finally catch the ever elusive Joey. But will he be caught in time?

Sister, Sister, Sister - Part 3
By Missy Crystal

Twelve year old Johnny wants to play Barbies with his sisters, but Barbies are for girls. How can Johnny join the game? A sweet, sentimental story about a young boy's discovery of the girl he should have been with the help of his sisters and mother. This is a story I wrote a couple of years ago and I am posting it here for those who would like to know more about Dr. Jenny Mitchell. It is complete, for those who anguish over being left hanging, but too long for a single post.

Our two visitors started shifting anxiously in their seats. I couldn't imagine what was on their minds.

"Uh, one reason we came over—"

"...if you don't mind..."

An authorized story, based on the characters and environment of A New Style of Education by Karen Page.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part:284

"Can't they make you Emeritus Professor?" I asked.

"Not if they want to save pennies."

"This is just so unfair," I felt tears coming to my eyes, "I was looking forward to working with you for years to come."

"Look, I might be prejudging the issue, they are looking to save money and we have to consider where the axe might fall."

In the late Christmas afternoon I was in my room, sitting in a chair, hugging my knees and feeling glad to be clean and warm, when I heard two women talking outside. It sounded like friendly banter, but it never stopped or let up. I figured that the two were walking slowly, but they never seemed to move on. And they didn't quit jabbering for an instant. Finally, out of curiosity, I looked out the window.

Presents

S-Idol - First Elimination  

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 283.

"Good Lord!" said my doctor as I explained my take on recent events.

"Heavens above!" he continued, his mouth gaping in astonishment.

"Gee whizz! And all of this happened since Christmas?"

"In the last couple of weeks."

"You're dangerous to know. You're not mad and bad as well, are you?"

FOLLOWING THE SOMEWHAT shattering discovery that after my latest sojourn back to 1944 I had returned with a girl’s body, Mummy and Auntie Greta had taken me shopping for girl clothes, and Mummy used her mobile to ’phone Dr MacNeish who said that luckily she had had a cancellation and could see me at five o’clock that afternoon.

The old story of the scorpion and the frog came to mind. Maisie would be the scorpion... striking out at people is part of her nature. Maybe someday she could heal and change. Maybe. In a way, it didn't matter, because I knew that from now on, at least a part of me would always have an eye on her, ever vigilant. I'd been stung already, and I wasn't going to get stung again.