INTRODUCTION

This is the second of four interrelated recollections by a man in the late summer of life, recalling the events of some unusual summers, and the members of the female persuasion who made them so unusual and worth remembering.

My Summer In The Big City
By: Zylux

This story contains strong language, sexual content and boys acting like jerks. (A little different for me) So you have been warned.

This story doesn't flow in a straight forward way, it is fairly scattered with headings for where/when each separate sequence is located - you should be able to pick up the whole storyline as you go along.

This story is just a little fun really; a silly little teen story, don't take anything in this piece at all seriously.

Enjoy. (Or at least try to!)

Author's note-the song is not mine and I make no money from it.

It all began when they took me from my home
And put me on Death Row,
A crime for which I am totally innocent, you know.

Not Death Row anymore, but Swap Row, but many prisoners prefer to call it
by the old name, as the result is the same. When you go to the swap chair
, also known colloquially as the "mercy seat" you may not be fried as in
the electric chairs of old, but you'll still die. A total identity death
with all your memories changed to that of your victim and your very body

I stepped out of the shower, smelling like the "Spring Rain" body wash I
had gotten too accustomed to using. I put on the strapless bra and
French-cut panties -- both virginal white.

Finally, I looked at the dress. It was surprisingly heavy, and rustled
as I maneuvered into it. The hem fell lightly, slightly above my knees.
The waist was close enough to make me look rather thin and slender, and a
bit of rouching went upward from the waist before spreading to line the
bust. There were a couple of straps, but they were rather thin. A small

It had taken a lot of bribes, just to get hold of him. And then the surgery had cost a lot more, but for the parents, it was worth it to have their Amber back again. They knew that he would not want to replace her, which was why they had implanted a little electro-shock device into him for training purposes. As well as that, a bangle that *she* could not take off contained a GPS device so they would know where their little princess was at all times. They waited for *her* to wake so they could attach the hair extensions and tell *her* her fate.

You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of the imagination. Next stop: THE TWILIGHT ZONE.
- Rod Serling

Max Kleebler has inherited a lovely old vacant building from his Uncle. Little does Max realize, the house also comes with its own inhabitants...players in a deadly triangle of love and murder. Enter now...down a sleepy little tree lined lane, where sits the Mooring House, firmly ensconced in the center of...THE TWILIGHT ZONE.

Spring Hills was in a state of total excitement! The small mountain town full of eclectic little shops and mostly geared towards the tourist trade went all out for the major holidays. Christmas this year would be no exception. Now Spring Hills wouldn’t forget about the religious meaning of this holiday, but that was mostly left for the churches and the individual families. The town itself was going all out for the business end and the commercial pageantry that would draw these tourists into town.

The Stand In.

By Angharad.

“Go on, you ask him.” Carol pushed Ray towards me.

“Why do I have to do it?” he hissed back.

“’Cos you’re a bloke–go on ask him.” I was standing in the backstage area unravelling a twisted cable from the sound equipment.

“Um–Rob, can you give us a hand?”

Desperate times call for desperate measures.