This is just the beginning of a new story. But, it comes with a warning. I've crossed a line here by writing an adult-themed story that is intended for a mature reader.

Parker looks at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. She couldn’t believe her parents had accepted that she had wanted to be a girl since she was little. True, she has to see a counselor about how she feels. But she didn’t mind.

The counselor she has been seeing wants to see how she looked as a girl today. Her friend Tony was coming to pick her up to take her. He stood by her when she came to him about how she was.

“Parker, Tony is here to pick you up.” Mary sticks her head into her daughter’s bedroom.

I would cross that bridge when I came to it, I decided. In heels.

Chaos filled the common room of the girls dormitory.

Apparently having more than one dorm key was a good thing, and the tougher girls were stealing as many as they could from anyone who couldn't or wouldn't defend themselves. I could only watch as a crystal covered girl came towards me, flames erupting from her nostrils with every breath. Looking around for help, or maybe a distraction, things didn't look good.

This is just the beginning of a new story. If you want to read more, please let me know. And just to remind you, I have a new novel on Amazon called Being Invisible. Take a look. There are lots of chapters to read for free.

Don’t Worry
Leslie Moore

“Honey, it’s okay. I’m sure when you get your strength back, everything will be fine.”

“Nice day for it,” I muse as I enter the park where the rest of the cricket team is assembled.

“Yep,” Stuart concurs. “Pity there’s no ‘it’ for it to be a nice day for, heh.”

“Well- yep, can’t argue with THAT,” I sigh as I gaze around at the other guys, all of whom- myself included- are keeping a distance of at least two metres away from each other.

Tear Drop.

At the end of Sierra’s neighborhood lay a large, long field. It was flat, full of crops and extended for as far as the eye could see. It almost looked like a farmer’s field, and maybe it was. Sierra couldn’t exactly tell.

Sierra had seen the field many times throughout her life and had oddly fond memories of it. She had never actually been in the field, but it seemed the simple sight of it was enough to remind her of familiarity, comfort, and home.

"I'm sorry, Jonny. I didn't try to convince them you were my brother," Donna admitted.

Surprise

“Darling!” came a call from downstairs.
“Your agent is on the phone.”

I sighed. Despite me telling my agent more than once to use my mobile, she continued to use the landline.

“Ok. I’m coming.”

The morning as with many mornings recently, had not been that productive in terms of writing my next novel. I was sure that my agent, Agatha Smythe-Hall was calling to check on progress. I knew what I wanted to write but it would just not come out in any sort of even semi-readable text.

I went downstairs and took the phone.

The News
A Short Story Contribution
By Maryanne Peters

I suppose that I had not much idea about the issues of intersex or transgenderism before Toxically Induced Sexual Morphosis (TISM) hit Ridgewick. Then it became not just the big news in town, but the only news. And the news is my business.

When Paths Cross
Caution: Suicide referenced