I'm confused, so this will be a very confused column. It's sort of like one of those dreams where several seemingly unrelated threads of thought combine in really odd ways and you wake up thinking "I'm not sure I want to know anyone who could dream up something like that!"

The newly promoted Major returned to her office after her lunch that day, only to find a squad moving the contents of her office. When she enquired as to why her items were being moved, she was informed that she would be based in a new office at the back of the building.

Major Garrett scratched her head for a moment, then realized that the soldier must have meant the last unused office in the administration building. That specific office was a three room suite, a reception area, the office itself and a fairly decent sized conference room.

Sloane Patterson, Stacy Patterson and Steve Patterson stood in front of the headstone. Sloane was crying and bought a handkerchief to her face to dry her eyes, as did Stacy.

Steve Patterson had never met the woman buried in the grave and his eyes remained dry.

“I never knew her but I know I owe her so much,” Stacy sobbed.

Read more of this story faster at: http://www.tgstorytime.com/viewstory.php?sid=4342 (link is external) or my NEW! personal website at:
https://www.rellawings.com/?mode=stories&story=1 (link is external)
Cover art is now available at Rellawings. If you would like to see Kozuke and Madoka, please have a look, and please bookmark it! <3
Editor: Trismegistus Shandy

Although Sarah was nearly exhausted, she had no choice but to get up early to ensure she could get into Lyle Brinkman’s office and erase the message that Jim Bellman had left on Lyle’s answering machine.

CHAPTER 12
I recognised a couple of the faces from news reports, articles in the local press and so on. Once more, Inspector Powell’s word of choice rose up: “local”. None of these, to my best recollection, had made anything more than the local news reports, certainly not the nationals, and the consistency was there in each picture, each black eye and fat lip. The boys had been attacked from the front, or at least after they had been grabbed. Pretty boys who had ceased to be so.

A failed survivalist finds his second chance when in desperation he steals a vixen suit and more, finding his way to the place where female impersonators can always get a drink and a bite, the Brilliant Basilisk

Cinnamon art and suit belongs to :iconfoxpawmcfly: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/19104316/

A Matter of Fact: Chapter 3 (part 7 and Epilogue)

By Camospam

July 10, 2007. Ottawa

 Cameron was dragged out of bed … in a rather abrupt and forceful manner, Ken pulled the mattress off the bed frame, dumping the sleeping boy onto the floor, then his RCMP guard kneeled down beside him drawing his pistol and aiming at the door.

“What!!! it’s like - two in the morning?” moaned the groggy youth

“We’re under attack” supplied Ken, motioning the boy to lower his voice

“Not another drill!” whispered Cameron

Something funny happened the first time my family spent a week at the now infamous home of Jim Bakker, Heritage Village USA. Since I am not a Christian and had to work anyway, I spent the week as a bachelor. Well, not exactly a bachelor, more a bachelorette. I hate that word, it is as awkward as some of the supposed "sexual-bias-free" creations that grace the media these days, and I have a whole new understanding of those libbers who object to those sexist terms.

Masks XIX:

A Disturbance of the Peace

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Two

"Do you trust him?" said Sally, once we were back out on the street.

"For this? Yes. It's in his best interest to find out who is making trouble in his town. Trouble which could cause him to lose clients and maybe even have to move again."

"So, he's a super?"

"I'm not really sure. I do know that he's been in this game since the late Forties at least."

She looked a bit surprised at this, but only a bit.

"Someone Mack Risk introduced you to?"