“Come on Tammy, you need to improve on your fighting skills.” Greg swings his Bo staff at Tammy.

Tammy brings her Bo staff up in time to block and strike back at Greg. She twirls it and manages to whack him behind his head. She put some power behind it because they were wearing protective gear.

“Good, your doing better.” Greg attacks some more and is blocked each time.

Tammy keeps attacking and finally sweeps Greg’s legs out from under him. She spins her Bo staff and put the end under his chin.

“I surrender.” He was impressed with Tammy’s weapon handling.

There are five of us here for the dinner. It was in this moment I realized how shocked I was that more sisters never stayed for dinner in the house, seriously. Today is was me, Aleah, Isabella, Amelie, and Lauren. They were nervous, but I wasn’t.

CHAPTER 70
We made our way back to Central in convoy, some of the vehicles peeling off to deposit their prisoners at other nicks, the numbers being rather too big for one Custody Suite to hold. I was glad to be able to get rid of all the Personal Protective Equipment that had been weighing me down. I am not a small girl, nor exactly chest-heavy, but I am sure the designers of the ballistic vest were either misogynists playing a nasty joke, or simply nerds with no concept of what a woman’s body actually looked like. Bloody uncomfortable things.

Raven stops a few blocks away from the garage to gather herself. She was still pissed after seeing one of the men responsible for sending her to jail. She tries the breathing exercises she recently learned from Barbara.

Barbara had found her crying and upset about a memory that resurface from her time in prison. She instructed Raven on how to center herself and let the emotion flow out of her, instead of letting it have power over her. She needed to get her emotions under control before she got back to the shop.

“Tiff, what’s going on with you?” Isabella asked as we pushed a squeaky cart down a grocery aisle later that night. “You’re like…glowing.”
“Oh, nothing,” I said in sing-song voice. She was staring at me. She didn’t need to know anything. Tonight we were out getting stuff for tomorrow’s dinner. “Do you think we should go with a roast?”

“Think we should make Audrey make whatever it is we have,” Isabella huffed.

“Does Audrey even know how to cook?” I was genuinely curious. I really had no idea.

“Yes.”

“What? Really? She never even eats.”

Chapter 21

I had to say it again. “I am pregnant.” Then I giggled. I also felt a little bit relieved which was a strange feeling. I think I had become accustomed to the idea of being pregnant throughout the day and was subconsciously worried that it was a false hope.

This story has been reposted from my "Double short-story collection". Reviews from original post included.

At the time I wrote this, I was dealing with some very dark thoughts, so this story was my effort to exorcise them.

Caution: this story contains triggers for those with depression. Also, while bizarre, contains a form of suicide.

The same accident that caused the loss of his leg at age six also stimulated the latent genetics that ran in his family to trigger a mutation. Although becoming one of the ‘exo-humans’ the government monitored would prove to be the least of David’s worries once he stumbled upon his family’s secret.

Chapter 25

Chapter 19

If you have never been pregnant, how are you supposed to know what it feels like? The main question was, was it possible? Yes, we had sex with Gabi when she still had male equipment, but her penis was trapped in a false vagina. She couldn't get an erection and she certainly didn't put it inside me.

Stepping outside the doors of the school I read a text from Shawn asking to meet at his house. Well, that was a little unusual but it’s not like I wasn’t dressed for the occasion. I’m always dressed for the occasion. I stood outside for a moment checking e-mails and finally, brought up the GAT tracker app that I’d gotten right after being promoted from pledge status last year. Our tracker app was a piece of custom software that we could use to track the GPS on eachother’s phones. A little invasive? Probably, but it came in handy a lot.

Sympathetic Magic

Mardi Gras isn’t my thing, but there I was, in New Orleans.

Because James asked.

Not too many people stuck with me when I came out as a trans man, stopped being Barbra and became Benjamin, but James did.

So when he asks for help, I come.

He’s hung out a shingle as a P.I., getting a rep as the guy for the forgotten people, the ones the police ignore.