Not doing anything else, not caring about how her hair looks and I can feel the girls kind of wtf over that and some are a little turned on and don’t get why...okay one of my cousins definitely gets why and being tuned in now I can feel Cheyenne’s mind on the almost guy track of food.

I head out and see Shy talking with Mom and they’re into it and making some kind of sauce not sauce? It’s green and it’s got lots of olive oil and there’s vinegar and I’m thinking cilantro and garlic but they’re talking and taste testing together and Shy’s dipping pieces of baguette in it trying it out and adding things like lemon zest to it and some squeezes of juice then whipping it up again.

It’s good to see them talking and chilling out.

Little steps.

https://pixabay.com/en/cartoon-doodle-sketch-kids-people-10820

The Little Girl Who Lives Down The Lane – Part 13
By Barbara Lynn Terry

Chapter 1 – The extradition hearing is expedited.

Steve Hastings left the jail. He went out to his squad to resume his patrol.

“463 resuming patrol.”

“10-4, 463.”

A Second Chance

By Dawn Natelle

This took a while, and I think I may need a break after this one. So don’t go looking for a story a day for a while: Dawn

SATURDAY, May 21, 2016

Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

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

“God, I always feel so out of place every time I come here…” I moan as I step into the vast dance studio, surrounded by my friends.

“I really hope that’s NOT because you feel uncomfortable wearing THAT!” Lauren teases, making me giggle as I stare down at the short-sleeved black leotard and baby pink tights that are covering my body.

“Hell no!” I reply, making my friends giggle and cheer. “It’s just- you know? You girls are all so good at ballet, and I’m still just a beginner… Not to mention the fact that everyone here is, like, famous!”

So many things have changed over the last two years and a bit. The biggest change, to be honest, has been me, inside and out.

At that time, I was just about to graduate from high school. I did all right, I guess, mostly As and Bs. I got along with others for the most part, but I never really got close to anyone because I had a deep, dark secret I didn't want to tell anyone: I wished that I had been born female.

I stare at the phallus and its package between my legs. It’s tiny and weird. It doesn’t belong between a girl’s legs, yet it’s there. I poke and prod at it. Like it was about to explode.

I take a knife and gently stab the phallus’s package just enough to cause some pain. I stop before the knife breaks the skin. I hate pain as much as I hate my disgusting testosterone balls. I wish I didn’t feel pain. I wish I could just be numb. I also wish I had a scalpel. I could give myself an orchidectomy.