Transwife
A Diatribe
By Maryanne Peters

This is not a happy story. I like a happy stories, but this is not one of those.

It started happily enough, from a point. Transgirl wrestles with her problem, transgirl comes out, transgirl cause family commotion, transgirl becomes accepted by family (all except one), transgirl transitions, transgirl becomes accepted at work (all except one), transgirl saves money, transgirl gets her dream anatomy, transgirl meets guy, transgirl falls in love, transgirl marries her man …

Accidental Princess
My Entry in the Reluctant Princess Contest
By Maryanne Peters

The collective groan welled up spontaneously throughout the office as Mr Mcguire, our department head, announced that the office would be closing at the end of the workday, and we were expected to continue our work - from home - for the duration of the situation.

SRU: The Two-Fer
By Ellie Dauber
Copyright 2000

This is another of my older stories. A couple of slackers help out the SRU Wizard. Now comes the problem of how to properly thank them.

SRU: The Two-Fer
By Ellie Dauber
Copyright 2000

Gran’s Tale
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Well, if you want to talk about gangs, and that kind of life, you might be surprised to know that both your grandfather and I, were involved in gangs when we were younger.

I will tell you the story if you like, but do not interrupt me. I should tell you first that the story contains sex, violence and bad language, but nothing much more than what is on TV these days. I am sure that your parents will forgive me.

The Leap
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I am like that guy Hamlet. You know: “To be or not to be, that is the question”. I just could not make up my mind. I must have stood there on that cliff top for close to an hour. To be or not to be.

I had heard that the last guy who threw himself off “The Leap” had just driven there in his car with his girlfriend, ran up and over the barrier and he was gone. Dead on the rocks below within seconds. Too easy. But not me.

So along came Janet Downing. She came, and we talked. And I did not jump.

Sikh
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Sheba recognized Anjit immediately and pulled him inside.

“Quickly,” she said. “Into the storeroom. You need to stay out of sight.”

“They are searching the houses,” Anjit said, the fear dripping from his voice. “They are looking for blood. Nothing I say can stop them. They are crazed. They have killed my parents. Just because they think they look like terrorists.”

(Hello everyone, so this is a short story I wanted to do inspired by one of the artworks, Outfit Design 133 of the fantastic HinaYui. If you don’t follow her already make sure to do so now, I can vouch that it is worth it. I have been a long-time fan of her art. https://www.deviantart.com/hinayui/art/Outfit-Design-133-804... )

“Watch you doing up there, Amy?” Steve looks up at Amy way up at the top of her mainmast in a bosun's chair.

Amy looks down towards Steve as he stood near her sailboat. She had just finished installing a new light bulb and a radio antenna on her mainmast.

“Replacing a light bulb and installing a new radio antenna.” Amy was glad she got started early on the repairs.

“You’re a better person then I am.” Steve had a fear of heights.

“I love my boat.” Amy starts lowering herself back down to the deck.

My eyes widened in surprise. There was someone standing at the door of the rumpus room. Someone I'd never seen before. A boy around my age, maybe a year older. Tall; taller than me, and much wider across the shoulders. He was wearing a bright red varsity jacket and holding something in his right hand, although neither fact registered with me at the time. He was staring at me slack-jawed and speechless, astonishment stamped all over his face in capital letters...

Indian Red
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“So, there is family history?” he said. He was playing with my pubic hair.

“Pay attention,” I scolded him. “I will read you some of the early passages from the journal.” I had the copy with me, beside the bed. The original had become too fragile with age. “Now, remember, this was the Battle of Adobe Walls in November 1864, when my grandmother was only 18, and serving in the New Mexico Volunteer Cavalry, which was really just cowboys and gunslingers under army command.”

Teresa knew that if she Touched Her Face, she would die. Those were the rules. If The Virus caught you, or you Touched Your Face, or Failed to Wash Your Hands while Counting to Twenty, you would die.

Katie Reed’s life was perfect. Scratch that; Katie’s life was just about as near perfect as an 8th grade girl’s life could be. Her dad had a great job, her mom worked on the computer at home, and her sister was in the 12th grade and would be going to a college 200 miles away next year. Katie had a boyfriend who was just about the cutest guy at school. They had been going together several months and he treated her great. All the other girls knew Aldo was Katie’s guy and they should stay clear.

Mermaid
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

They had almost reached the radio buoy when Nate called out that there was something in the water, off the starboard bow, maybe 200 metres distant. Skipper Greg Hanson was behind his own exacting schedule and was disinclined to investigate, until Nate called out: “I think it’s a body.”

“No problem, Sam. Any chance of you welding a broken hinge on one of the waggon sides sometime?”

Golden Days
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

The winter of 2009 took my sweet wife Margot. It was an infection, we knew that much. We put her body outside in the snow to preserve her. I had not wanted to let go, but Carson made me see the sense in it. When winter broke, we were able to take her body in to town and confirm the cause of death. It was such a minor thing, just a small wound from a can of spam, but when you are isolated, even with modern communications, there is nothing you can do.

Copyright © Tracy Lane, 2000/2021.

Tender Mercies

Turning away from the door, I caught sight of myself in the cheval mirror I'd set up near the sofa. It showed me as I truly am; a petite young woman with long blond hair and full, crimson lips. How could I explain this, account for my sudden metamorphosis? In all the months since I had come to live with her, Aunt Cathy had never seen me as my real self. She would never understand: very few people could, even in this day and age. I've never truly understood it myself....

My time with Mistress Zara – chapter one.
My first time