Andi and Allie Chapter 24

“…are you illusions, or are you really what you seem to be?”

Peter came into the office precisely at nine. I had already had my coffee with Rhona and, although we had a great gossip session regarding one of the artist’s new boyfriends, I told her nothing of my weekend discussions or decisions. I was still very frightened by the entire thing and I didn’t think she could provide any help in alleviating my fears.

A new home

Masks XVIII

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Fifteen

Rumor Has It
Did you hear that Debbie is cheating on Brian?

Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and without.

A Second Chance

By Dawn Natelle

Another long chapter, and a hard one to write. I hope it is interesting to all of you. I have spoiled you all with daily postings for the past week, but I think it will be two or three days until the next one. Dawn

SUNDAY, May 8, 2016

When you have strict parents nothing can keep you from going to school.
Not being a trickster mage with a brand new spell or suddenly being a girl.
How will everyone react? Mercy is about to find out.

 
Tommy finds something out about himself...

 Sky Blue

by Erin Halfelven

Andie and Allie Chapter 23

“My God…!!! It’s full of starZ!!!”

Monday loomed large over the weekend. Allie and I had a lot to speak about. We had broached the subject of my ‘official’ gender before but the discussion with Susan brought the subject to the fore front again.

Masks XVIII

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Fourteen

"So that was a demon," said Vic, stunned. She shook her head.

"Surely you suspected this," said Sharma, puzzled.

"Well, yeah. Suspecting is different from knowing!"

Adam’s dream had always been different. While all the other kids around him played with their Overman and their Glory action figures, and chattered about how great it would be to save the day, his thoughts were full of darker things: swirling capes, shadowy figures, spinetingling cackles… You could leave those so-called “heroes,” saving the day with their fists and muscles, to the populist masses. Villains were the idol for the truly discerning, for the intelligent man.

But it wasn’t until he was a teenager, full of self-righteousness and hormonal rage, that he finally received the impetus to act.

I get a text when I step outside. It’s a selfie of Chinta, posing in front of a statue made of diapers. I think that means I should meet her near the statue made of diapers.

I look around for a statue made of diapers, then put my phone into the face of the nearest passerby. She nods like she’s seen it, and adds an expression like she’s seen everything. She’s young. It’s cute.

I give her the closest I can get to a “where is it?” expression, and she points further into the maze. I don’t even try, just set out in that general direction.