Stowaway
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Part 1

“I’ll tell you what we are going to do,” said Dr Felton. Gina had referred the problem to her superior knowing that she would have a solution. “This boy cannot be concealed here, so he will need to hide in plain sight as one of our spa team.”

“But we have no men on our team,” said Gina. It was she who had found Miguel and promised to hide him. She was the source of the problem. Everybody stared her down.

Two miles East of town one would find an open field. A broken stone wall divides the field in half, in front of the stone wall, there is a creek. The field is haunted, haunted by the souls of some six hundred Confederate dead and some eight hundred Federal dead. There are a number of rumors connected with the field, some report hearing the roar of musketry echoing across the field early in the morning.

CHAPTER 43
As Alicia disappeared, I turned back to Kim.

“Spill them, then. All those beans I can hear rattling around. Late?”

She turned back to the stove, trying to appear intent on her cooking.

“Nothing really. Just going to the pictures”

“With?”

Part Seven

The rest of their journey down to Devon was done in relative silence. It reinforced the reality that Jacques was going to have to do a lot of explaining to do later that evening.

The sun was still high in the sky when Jacques drove the Van up the track to their home.

“Why don’t we leave unloading until morning?” suggested Jacques.

“Good idea. I’m bushed,” replied Vivienne in a firm voice.

Jacked Up Part 3

Next time I came to there was a nurse beside me checking all of the tubes and drips. When she saw my open eyes she exclaimed “Oh good, honey, you are awake. I can now get you to see what moves again and what doesn’t without those rough doctors trying to bend you into odd shapes.”

A few careless words led to triggereing of hidden forgotten feeling for Steve.

A retelling, with permission and differences, of C.D. Rudd's classic webcomic SailorSun.org.

Billy Jones, a film student and extra, seems to have been exposed —if that's the word— to some sort of special effect.

Part Six

Bless modern technology, thought Vic, as her brilliant phone found a useable cell tower and connected, in spite of being on an island in a lake in a large park. The only place she had found to get a signal was standing on the front porch of the old house. Something the FBI agents had told her about. As she waited for someone to answer, she watched the sun moving slowly towards the mountain to the west. She hadn't thought to call her office until late in the working day for the office in Detroit. Partly because there was still plenty of daylight here.

Bruce Finds His Rainbow. Part 1

Bruce Grayson was aptly named. He was the epitome of a grey person. His complexion was grey-ish; his clothing was grey-ish because all the schools he had attended had uniforms that were uniformly some shade of grey. The only thing not grey about him was his shoulder length brown hair.

Kaur
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

As a young Sikh man, it was my tradition not to cut my hair. It was a tradition that I kept even after I had been accepted to study nursing.