White and Yellow
By Sabrina G. Langton

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Author's Note: I dig through my big dusty pile and read again. Find something I love.

I hope YOU like it.

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A whole year ago today. I can not believe that we have been living in this wonderful house for a whole year.

I went into a little of the back story of Lilith in this chapter. I will try to expound more on her history as the story unfolds. It is also a little longer than I usually write so I'm hoping that the story still flows smoothly. Thank you very much for your interest in this story.

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It's tempting to blame it all on my mother; haul out some psychobabble about how I was raised and childhood trauma and such. Tempting, sure, but anyone who has stayed awake through biology class knows that it's really all due to my father. Four sisters, one lone male - me. It's a biological fact that the male determines a child's sex at conception, but you try growing up as the last child with four sisters.

Note: This announcement was originally written for TG Storytime, as this story was originally written for TG Storytime. What is said in it may not apply to this site.

Well, we're coming up at the 1 year anniversary of this story. My god, I never expected it to be this long, and we still have a long way to go until the end! Anyway, 100K words! Wow! That's insane. I never thought I'd write anything longer than 100K words in my life but here we are. I want to thank you all so much for sticking around and reading this story. Every new review, each time I see this story get another favorite, it means a lot to me, and motivates me to continue writing. Anyway, here's Chapter 46 and oh, I achieved my main goal! 100K words before the story's 1 year anniversary. Another reason to celebrate!

Clementine
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Gabe Horton was just the scout and guide. The leader of this wagon train was Ezekiel Masterton. He was the man who called the shots. Gabe could only recommend. Pastor Ezekiel seemed to hold the will of every one of the settlers in his hand.

CHAPTER 44
The rest of the week found its pattern, each day book-ended by a ride with Mam, and punctuated with a shared lunch. I am sure I was just as vocal as Alys was, about the way my course was going, but so much of what she described sailed right past me. At least with my stuff, it was rooted in daily life, at least the sort of daily life lived by someone who lived in the middle of mountains sprinkled with lakes.

Please note, I've posted a revision to the earlier chapter, with significant changes, and there are significant changes in this one, too.

“Now Jackson, I’m aware of what happened with Ned, and all I can say is, don’t let it bother you, son. Be a tough guy, don’t let him get to you. Now, I’m sure you are a bit upset over that, and I’m willing to help you work off some of that weight. Just let me know if I can help. Now, we’re playing dodge ball today, get out there and show them what you got!” says Coach.

Marcia had no sense of where she was. She knew who she was, and even where she was, but to sense it? That wasn't there.

On and off that day, I thought about that Missing Child poster I’d seen and what Mom and Dad were feeling and thinking about all this. Did they know I was trans by now? They almost certainly knew I’d venned into a girl body at least once; they’d have heard from Tim’s parents by now, even if the police hadn’t told them about the details of their investigation and what they’d learned from Meredith and Sophia.

There are a lot of good things about public transportation: It's affordable, environmentally responsible, good for people watching, cheaper than owning a car. There a couple of bad things about public transportation: It's slow and you often have to spend a lot of time in the cold or rain walking to the bus stop or waiting for the bus. Maybe the responsible rider is lucky and has a subway stop in front of his doorway, but not so the hero of this story.

Sandy wasn’t just my spouse. I made it very clear to the professionals we hired for the campaign that there was no better political mind on the planet. Sandy almost never dipped an oar into my campaigns anymore, but I told the campaign staff, on no uncertain terms: “If Sandy says jump, you ask ‘how high?’ Don’t wait to talk to me.”