A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

If you reached the end, the final end of the final rope, and could take a mulligan, would you?

Of course it’d have to be on a “Take your daughter to work day” that we visit this factory. Of course, for me every day is “Take your daughter to work day.” I’m surrounded by small and big girls eager to ask me lots and lots of questions while my mother does what presidential candidates do. I hate having to participate in my mother’s campaigning but that’s Mother for you. Whatever can be useful not only can be used but MUST be used.

(Author’s note: This story picks up the action several months after the events in Love Has No Pride and When You Wish Upon a Star.)

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

Paul’s son Karl has a school assignment that results in Paul bringing Karl into his job.

Ellen Carpenter woke first. She always did on a work day, and almost always on weekends, too. After enough time, some habits just stick with you. The pattern had become a routine - throw on a dressing gown, step into slippers and pad down the stairs to make a pot of tea and some breakfast for both of them, sit quietly listening to complaints about work colleagues she had never met, make a packed lunch and a flask of coffee, then a quick kiss, a “have a nice day”, and she was on her own again.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

Alarm clocks are like one of those double sword edge things. They’re loud and annoying so you have to turn them off to go back to sleep, but mom and dad are going to know that you woke up if you do that. Then they’ll come in to force you to get up themselves. There’s no way to actually get any more sleep. You’re doomed the moment you wake up.

I fought against my bed to get my eyes open, squinting up at my white ceiling and the surrounding soft blue walls. I reached over to the little table by my bedside with my last bit of strength and shut off the alarm.

I spent about an hour after dinner looking through the stuff in my room. Eventually I realized that the only thing that was really the same between this room and mine were outward appearances like the dressers and the bed and everything. It turned out that they didn’t look identical after all but I was just too excited to spot the differences.

“Liam?” Sonia calls from the living room, making me groan as I wake up. “Come on, time to get up!”

“Yeah, I’m awake,” I reply, not even bothering to stifle my yawn.

New Year's Eve

By Melanie E.

Originally posted to the BCTS Patreon on December 31st, 2022

A Different Pair of Queens
By Sabrina G. Langton

***

Author's Note: Just a couple of words I came up with while being really nosy at a bar. Sometimes I listen to other conversations instead of being involved with the conversations that I am involved with, ha. I do have a little background about that bar too, that I will put up here inside The Big Closet soon, thanks. I hope YOU like it.

“Hi!” I say with an excited squeak as I open the door and am greeted by the grinning, dark-skinned face of my bandmate. “Virtual hugs and kisses!”

“Virtual hugs and kisses!” Adeola giggles as we both hold our hands up and wiggle our fingers at each other- our latest attempt at a covid-safe greeting. “Is Becca already here?”

“Not yet, I think she’s still getting used to there actually being traffic on the roads of London!” I chuckle, before grinning as Adeola’s fiancé enters our flat carrying an expensive-looking bottle of wine. “Hi Marco! Virtual hugs!”

The thing I remember most is that I didn't cry. It's funny how the mind works like that. I don't remember the words my sisters said to me, or what they were wearing, or even if they were crying- all I remember is that I didn't cry.

And that I'd just been told the most devastating news a 13-year-old boy could hear: that his parents were both dead.