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Synopsis -- Jay and Sandy had a largely normal marriage until one day Sandy unloaded on Jay… Jay’s future happiness was in serious doubt.

Where Good Girls Belong
By Janet Baker

“You son of a bitch!”

“Huh!? What in the hell’s wrong? What are you yelling about?”, I gasped as I looked open mouthed at my outraged wife Sandy.

“You treasonous cheating bastard. Don’t lie to me damn you! I have proof!”, she yelled anew with pure venom in her voice.

…a dry martini of a Fetishy cliché, a good dollop of raw home made spirit with a dash of insouciance and a twist of lime…

Symbiotic; a mutually supportive relationship… at least that's how I choose to see it.
Dependence and inter-dependence, give and take. One side or the other, but are we always on one side of the line? Does it shift, or perhaps the question is, what would make you cross?

I “Saw” That

A TG take on Saw
By: Willy Mays Hayes

The man walked down the street, it was a dark, cold night. The man’s name was John Cornell and he was a pedophile. He had molested over seventy small girls and had yet to be caught. He fancied himself and expert, having honed his “craft” over many years. His methods had never changed, on nights such as this, he merely walked until finding a suitable target. Not that they were hard to find, there were many homeless girls living in the shadows of the alleys of the city. And this night was no different.

What I did on my Summer Vacation

Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind? Perhaps, for some, it’s for the best.

The same old argument raved again.

“Look, how can you not understand that I have always needed to be a woman?”

“You stupid fuckin faggit, all I ever wanted was a man with a dick! I told you 20 fuckin years ago that if you wanted that, you need to go be a whore or find yourself a rich man to do that for you! You sure as hell don’t fill my needs! All you are is a goddamned fag that couldn’t accept the fact that he was gay so he thought he had to be a female!”

This chapter may not seem like it's talking about Mom at all, but it'll make sense in a while, okay? Her early years were a bit…different to what most probably expect. I wrote this in first person, because that's the way Mom's diaries and journals are written and it just seemed the best way. I've tried to capture her 'voice', and I think it sounds about right. Enjoy!

Rain

There’s less than a week, now, until school starts at my new high school. I do hope I don’t have to write up a “What I did on my summer vacation” essay. That would be totally embarrassing, and not a good intro to a new school.