This is a short story written for the Halloween competition for the Big Closet web site. There is nothing funny or entertaining about the dead rising from their tombs, even for one night. This is my first attempt at writing a transgender horror story. It is deliberately short and much of the content is left to the imagination of the reader. It could have been much longer.This is offered as a warning to those who might be sensitive to such things. It is submitted early as I have no wish to enter the competition formally. I hope my idea will be a stimulus for others.

Chapter 2

We rang all twenty-six of the car owners on Friday, after looking at the addresses and working out a circular route. Two had on-sold their purchase as replicas, both to American buyers. All of the others were happy to see us, after we told them that we had located the manufacturer. We had our first meeting on Sunday afternoon, with the last on the following Saturday.

[authors note]
If you love formulaic and, in my opinion, cringeworthy ‘Christmas Movies’ or similar ‘Made for TV Romances’ that use an ensemble cast of ‘almost perfect specimens of humanity’ then stop reading now.

"Hey, look—" he glanced at his watch. "The timeline! We're still on the timeline, if we want to be!
Right about now, on the night Ross disappeared, he and Mayda left this restaurant and drove out to the desert.
What do you say — we drive out there now and check out the scene? What do you say?"

When Genesis left the time portal, she couldn't believe what she saw.

It was her old elementary school, Hammerhead Elementary School, exactly as she remembered it from when she was a (boy) kid. There was a marque out front with announcements about the start of the school year and a mural painted on a wall. There was even the old statue of a hammerhead shark in front of the cafeteria. The sight of it shocked Genesis. She used to walk by it every day-until it was taken down halfway through her Fifth Grade year. Yet here it was in all its former glory.

My alarm sounded at 5am, which was standard on a workday. I flapped at it and managed to shut if off after three clumsy swipes. Alarm silenced, I twisted my head round to find the other side of the bed vacant. This was strange because my wife, Tessa, was not usually an early riser. Oh well, hopefully she was downstairs preparing me some breakfast.

Tradeswoman
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I was a tradesman when I was a man. I was a roofing contractor. I knew that when I became a woman I would have to give up that job. That is not because women can’t be tradespeople - and we all know that transwomen can do anything women can – it was because I wanted to do something feminine. I thought that it was important to me to leave that rugged part of my life behind me.

Chapter 1

As the year moved towards another Christmas, Lena and I didn’t have to worry about the jobs, as we now had enough of our own money to live on. We didn’t go mad, but worked on the jobs that came in, keeping the income ticking over. With the work that Helen Harding and her constituents were giving us, we went to see Hassam’s friend in the auto trade.

Mantra has underestimated her opponents and has been captured by an alternate-world version of her friend Warstrike. The latter seems to be leading a gang of ultra-villains in a ruined version of Los Angeles. She has a right to expect the worst, but the more she learns about what's happening in this alternate Los Angeles, the worse it sounds.

“Are you regretting changing schools and majors?” she asked.

“No. I still think this is the right thing to do. I’ve been volunteering at the hospital when I have time to spare from studying, and the more I do that, the more sure I am that I want to be a nurse.”

Part Nine

Before Chris could say anything, Amy reached past the shower curtain with a bra dangling from her hand. It was reminiscent of the panties he had been gifted and subsequently pressured to put on–pink and lace, without being sheer. If her words hadn’t been enough, the sight of the bra was quite telling in terms of how serious she was about the ten minute penalty.

He rejected the absurd idea right away. “Amy, I’m not-”

“Why don’t we go tomorrow and fetch your things? There is no sense in you paying rent, we fit well together. And in Sunday, I would love to teach you some climbing.” It was Friday evening and we had just returned from work.

“Are you sure?” There was a bit of conscience in the voice of Carlo.

“Yes. I… I like you. Like, really.”

Girls’ Vacation
By Maryanne Peters

I just thought that pushing him all the way would finally put an end to this whole crossdressing thing. I had tolerated his crossdressing for our entire marriage but with the kids having left the family home it was as if he had a license to wear women’s underwear constantly, and to act like a woman in the kitchen. It seemed that he had only been constrained by the thought of our children learning of his perversion. My opinion did not matter.