When Kathy returned home later she was quite chirpy but deep in thought, but later over dinner, she raised the subject that was on her mind.

“I was talking to some of the girls during the meeting and the conversation got round to Morris dancing and the fact that their husbands seemed to spend more time with the Morris team at practice and in the pub than with their families. Laura suggested that it would be good if some of us joined the Morris team to become more involved in their interests, what do you think?”

“No chance ! There are some mixed teams but most prefer to be traditional and all male and the Mayfield Morrismen is one of those groups, it would send shivers down their spines to let any women join. If you really want to be involved with Morris it would be better if you set up your own women’s team.”

“That’s what I thought you would say. So, how do we go about setting up our own team, we would like to keep it local rather than travel elsewhere to an established group?”

”To start with you need a coach, someone to teach you the routines and lead you in practice, unless any of the girls already have some experience.”

I was thinking that you might be able to give us a helping hand to start us off, you’ve been involved for years and know all the traditional routines. I’ve sort of already volunteered for you to talk to us, teach us the basics and see what can be done.

For the rest of the afternoon, Genesis and Ramona shut themselves in their rooms so they could gather up the stuff they needed for their road trip-changes of clothes, cell phone chargers, and books to read when they got bored. While she was packing her stuff, Genesis got out her phone and called Jesse to ask him to accompany her on her trip.

After a few rings, Jesse answered his phone. "Hey," his voice said. "Who's this?"

"It's me. Genesis."

"What...Genesis? That new intern at Pride Laboratories who walked off?"

"Yes, it's me."

"What do you want?"

Shotgun Motherhood
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Chapter 7 – Thank you for being a friend

When I woke the next morning I realised I had a lot of things to do – things I had sat aside while attending to my presentation as Sally. I needed to do a grocery shop for one thing, as well as vacuum and dust the house and there was the small matter of finding myself some meaningful work to pay my expenses! I DID have an exhibition stand to furnish in a few weeks but I really needed to find something in the interim and it would involve me taking the initiative and seeking out the work.

My Summer at Camp Kickapoo
Chapter Three
I volunteer as a Tribute!

Ursula has another talk with Ketko and the confusion continues to grow. Eventually she realizes that they have both made wrong assumptions - and the reality is not what either had imagined, raising yet more questions. Then Ketko makes an unexpected request, causing her to seek out Eriana.

The Voyage of the Visund

A tale of Anmar by Penny Lane

89 - Too Many Moons

“Jake wasn’t my boyfriend!”

Wulfric emptied his mind focusing only on the horse's trotting and the sound its hooves made when they hit the dirt. The rhythmic sounds provided much-needed solace and distraction from thoughts about the sour end to his time with Thurstan.

“Talk, talk, talk, you Littons. It’s a wonder you managed to survive, all these centuries. Or at least, to reproduce.”

I did write that resignation letter, as I couldn't go against my intense desire and feelings regarding my hair. After I quit my work, things became worse. I was kicked out from my flat (again, without cause given by the landlord), my money was quickly gone since I had to pay my past-due bills (perfect timing, sheesh), and my parents really didn't leave a fortune so I couldn't count on that.

I was really starting to hate being in this room. The last time was only three days ago, right before falling unconscious, and then there was the time I was sentenced to five weeks of detention. At least this time I wasn't getting into trouble, or starting to feel sick. Dumbledore and Hagrid were having a private conversation, loud enough to hear that they were talking, but not loud enough to actually hear what they were saying. So I was just sitting there bored. Absent-mindedly I started looking at my fingernails. My face curled when I saw I had chipped the nail on my right index.

Chapter 5 – A rose by any other name . .