Oh dear, you wouldn't believe the swirl of emotions that evening. There I was, backstage at our own boutique's fashion show, peeking through the curtains. The runway glimmered under the spotlights, each beam catching the unique shimmer of dresses I had helped design. "Hmm, this is really happening," I whispered to myself, a mix of awe and nerves tingling through me.

“So… exactly how many high school fantasies are we fulfilling right now?” Paul asks as I tune my bass guitar, and I can’t help but smirk as I can already guess how the impending argument will go.

“Bit inappropriate to ask about MY high school fantasies, but I’ll let it slide,” Stuart replies, and I sense my opportunity to chip in.

“If it helps, Paul, I’m wondering the same thing,” I say, chuckling at the mock-offended look on my mentor’s face.

“…Okay, yes, every music student dreams of playing in a garage band in an actual garage,” Stuart concedes.

Two lonely high school students walk parallel paths.  One, impoverished and losing hope, yearns desperately to become their authentic self. The other, wealthy and the victim of unfathomable manipulation, resists changing to something they never wanted to be. Can these two, meeting amidst the clatter and chatter of the school cafeteria, find connection? Can they embrace their fractured selves and each other and then become whole? Or will a duplicitous villainess, in the guise of a loving mother, destroy their fragile hope and leave them living a miserable, incomplete existence?

Security Training Center Number 2:
Jake and Jessica look at the young fifteen-year-old teenage girl standing before them. She was wearing the black skintight outfit they had given her to wear. The suit had sensors built into it to monitor her vitals.

“Alright, Brandi. First, you’re going to stretch, so we can get a baseline on what your body is doing.” Jessica was standing near the monitors and already getting basic readings from the suit.

The New One
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I had come home from the party early. Walt had been talking to some of his business buddies and I was bored.

“That’s okay, sweetie,” he said. “You go home and slip into something nice and I will be along shortly.”

Primpers
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Brandon’s mother was desperate and so she called on him to help.

“I have a property just listed for a quick sale and it is a mess,” she said. “I can sell it as “a handyman’s delight” but it just needs some tidying up inside. Just a little primping to show it off a bit. Could you help me, Brandon? I will pay you out of the sales commission.”

“Ah- shit, sorry…” Luke mumbled as he entered the college’s toilet block to find his twin standing at a urinal fastening his zipper.

“S’okay,” Lucas mumbled, not looking at Luke as the young trans man limped toward one of the cubicles. Both twins grimaced as the encounter ended, not least because it was the most words they’d exchanged with each other for weeks.

Alco’s Self Storage:
“Man, I am so sore from moving all those heavy boxes and that piano.” Rustie looks at Ivy as he sweeps up the last of the trash in the second locker.

Rustie didn’t know that when someone bought a storage locker, they had to throw away all the trash in the locker as well. It was a good thing the storage unit manager had a wheel barrel they could use to haul all the trash to the dumpster.