Chapter 5
The Night Goes On

We took 2 taxis to the bar that wasn’t the one we expected. In fact it was a big surprise because it was a famous and popular Gay nightclub called the Nightingale Club but I’d never heard of it. Jessica had been before with Mary Jo and Sally so it was their recommendation. We had the tickets and when I looked at mine I realized it was the same bar that James had mentioned with the discount tickets. They’d be there I was sure.

Chapter 4 A night to remember

It was 15 to 20 minutes before we found De Marcos and we were all feeling the cold by the time we arrived. None of us wanted to carry coats all evening since we would be drinking in a few bars. So trust Jessica to toughen us up expecting us to walk in the cold.

.

I work in the central office of a large Supermarket Company and mostly my colleagues are girls with the exception of two of us males.

“How can you drink this crap?” I asked Stu after choking down the first swallow of the beer he had brought with him. “Blotz is nasty stuff!”

“Hey, it's cheap, and after the first one you don't notice.” My friend answered almost defensively. Besides they're running this cool contest and if you win you're guaranteed a contract to star in their commercials.”

Years since I last published anything I wrote. So this is going to be a semi-new thing for me. Let's see if I can give justice to MELANIE EZELL'S BIG CLOSET ULTIMATE WRITER'S CHALLENGE, the first week challenge:

1. In the Blink of an Eye

idea: Write a story with an instantaneous transformation. Aliens, magic, weird nanobots, the method is up to you, but the change is instant. Explore how the change affects the character's views of social situations and day to day activities.

No one with any sense of curiosity could have ignored the three journals in the old chest, which Tim came across whilst helping to clear out his aunt's house. So why did Aunt Mickey want him to destroy them?

My name is Jenny O'Brien. It didn't used to be I was named John O'Brien. So let me tell you how this happened.
My folks are at least part Irish along with a mixed bag of many other nationalities. Any towering mountain of a man Irish genes that may have existed are long gone, replaced by what could almost be described as elfin genes. Both of my parents are small.
Not just the height though as both of them are under 5foot 5. My Mom is only 5'2 while my Dad is 5'4 or 5'6 with shoes on.

How does a smitten junior-high jock get on the close side of a cold embittered lad who's the splitting-image of his stunning classic tween star heart-throb?

This Valentine's Day quickie was 60% inspired by a middle school incident which I might expand on in a larger story. Please excuse this draft's grammar; I was scurrying to get this out on the appropriate day!

Take care!

I remember my early years as one half of a set of Fraternal twins, as a time of great confusion for both of us. I was born the boy of the pair named Christopher Ray McClain. Christine Rayanne McClain was the girl of our pair. From the age of four, we were both aware that there was a great cosmic mistake made. I felt I should have been Christine and she felt she should have been me. We would play with each other and exchange our toys. I would play with the dolls she had and she would play with the trucks and toy soldier's.

A girl deals with the loss of her transgendered sister.

Jenny shivered in the cold draft wafting through the Emerald Gymnastics Center gymnasium and hugged herself, tracing and stroking her bare hands, peppered with white gymnastics chalk, over equally bare and chalky arms and shoulders, legs and knees, then trying to rub some warmth into the white-powdered soles of her bare feet, then coming back to rest on the soft, smooth, form-fitting Lycra of her sleeveless gymnastics leotard.

All You Need Is Love
by Barbara Lynn Terry

Another old story of mine. Was meant to be the first part of a longer story but most people seemed to like it as a stand alone horror piece so I left it that way.

The Ward
By Bruce

I had known Anne since I was 4 years old. We lived a few houses apart in one of those neighborhoods in the suburbs that had once been filled with young families but had aged into older couples through the years. It was only natural we became friends, there was no other kids within blocks of us.

I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams

Author's note: this story has some explicitly Christian themes. If that bothers you, you might want to skip this one.

The Hem of His Garment

Based on Math. 9:20-22, Mark 5:25-34, Luke 8:43-48

Twelve years. Twelve long, miserable years. And she was at the end of herself....