I was the happiest I had been since I first woke up on Frank’s farm. I wasn’t skipping around; rather, I was running as fast as I could. After my little fall, I made my way down the street that the old lady lived on to a secondary road that ran parallel to the main highway. The highway had a good amount of traffic on it, but the secondary road was deserted. As a bonus, the road stretched as a far as I could see, a good three or four miles. Plenty of room to fully stretch my legs.

What you whisper now, tomorrow people will shout from the roofs of their homes old proverb.

This is an old posting which has been re-formated and further edited: Chapter 1 encompasses Parts 1 thru 3.

The story takes place in the Whateley Universe, with thanks to its creators.

A dance, a meal, and a kiss

This is the story of Penny. A closet Transwoman thrust into the outside world 24-7 when she would rather go and hide away. Perhaps the title should be Welcome to Penny’s Paranoid World…

I saw another one today. I was driving along a country road and over there on the left, by the well kept farmhouse was another of those rather weird examples of modern art known as the "moonie". Have you ever seen a moonie? No, I am not talking about some earnest and well scrubbed youth in the airport lounge selling flowers for the Korean Messiah, but rather the mushroom shaped and gaily painted depiction of someone's legs and nether regions that are sprouting on lawns all over country like, well like mushrooms.

It was a brilliant moonlit night. The warm weather of the past few weeks had made the nights unbearable for sleeping.
One of those who couldn’t sleep was William(Bill) Clancy. That night he’d gone for a drive down to the coast in his car.

As he topped the crest of a hill, he saw the gleam of the sea ahead. He wasn’t there yet. There was a steep hill to negotiate first.

He carefully started down the hillside. He saw another pair of headlights on the other side of the valley. He judged that the car was heading his way.

“Move it, skank!” Justine moved her hips to the side and shoved Marcy with them. Marcy stumbled and dropped her books and papers she was carrying. She kneeled to pick them up.

“God, she’s such a nerd,” said Linda. “She’s about to cry just because she dropped her nerd shit everywhere!” Tears welled up in the corners of Marcy’s brown eyes and her lips trembled.

I am a model of restraint, I think. You couldn't tell it by looking at me, unless you measure the tensile strength of my corset strings, but you couldn't see that either. In the latest of my temporary jobs I have ended up in yet another machine shop, building yet another machine. With each of these jobs you meet a new group of men - not people, they're exclusively men.