“Where are you going to go, Jessica?” Kelly watches as Jessica packs her suitcase with what meager belongings she owns.

“I don’t know, Kelly.” Jessica looks over towards Kelly. She has been like a little sister since she came to the ranch.

“Why can’t you stay? I don’t want you to leave.” Kelly walks over and hugs Jessica tightly.

“I don’t want to go, Kelly. But Mrs. White said the state wouldn’t allow me to stay here.

“It’s like one of those bad dreams, where you can see a train go off the rails, or a car careening into a group of people, and you try to cry out, or move, but you can’t.”

“I think you just said you like to eat Germans!” she giggled.

“Who doesn’t?” I replied.

I slipped back into the apartment that had been my sanctuary for these incredible months of change, and suddenly, so very suddenly, wasn’t. Life was just coming at me too quickly.

“You know about hell, I suppose?” she asked.

I thought of my upbringing and said, “It’s been mentioned.”

She responded, “I expect they’ll give you a refresher course.” I could only nod.

I would cross that bridge when I came to it, I decided. In heels.

“Dorothy was a child, and she missed her home. Her Aunty Em. I left home when I was 21, and I don’t think I’ll ever go back even to visit. It’s not home anymore. And I’ll be honest: I’ve always thought Dorothy was an idiot for going back.”

She cocked an eyebrow in question and I said, “Have you been to Kansas?”

Principal’s office. A tired looking woman is shown in. The Principal rises and welcomes the woman.

Principal: I’m very sorry to have had to ask you to come here Mrs Dupont but we have received complaints from several parents regarding your daughter in the locker room.

Mrs Dupont (sighing and near to tears): Oh, no not AGAIN! Why can’t they let sweet little Bobbie alone. She has not harmed anyone. And I thought the court order would have settled all that. It clearly states that Bobbie is a GIRL!

The Little Truck
By Sabrina G. Langton

***

Stories from the Real World.

Author's note: This is something that happened to me a long time ago, I still think about it everyone once in a while. It's weird but one specific moment sticks in my mind more than anything else, and it is not what you would expect. This isn't one of those s.e.x. stories that I am slightly good at, just a little remembrance, just a little dip back into the 80s when music was better and everyone was cooking for me. Hope YOU like it...

***

I have a wide grin on my face as I gaze at the other three women, all of whom are dressed identically to me in sparkly blue mini-dresses and high-heeled shoes (or, in my case, boots). The crowd is screaming with excitement, loud enough to bring my whole body out in goosebumps as we step forward onto the stage and raise our microphones to our mouths… before my phone rings, bringing me crashing back to reality. With a sigh, I pause the DVD and grab my phone from the coffee table, taking several deep breaths and trying to clear my throat before answering.

Nikki let out a long sigh as she was woken by the sound outside her flat. She'd lived in or near the centre of London for her whole life, so she was used to the sound of pedestrians, of traffic, of businesses and of the countless other sounds generated by the nearly nine million residents of the vast city. What she was not used to, however, was the sound of silence.

It had been exactly one month to the day since the Prime Minister had addressed the nation, saying the words that Nikki and countless others had dreaded to hear.

“Okay,” Sophie sighed into her phone as she laid in bed. “Thanks for letting me know. Stay safe.”

“Will do,” the receptionist said as she ended the call, leaving Sophie to groan with frustration as she stared at the ceiling. It had been over two weeks since she’d last had a shift from the airline, and while she was certain she wasn’t being persecuted (unlike when her first book had been published), it came as little to comfort to her- much like the knowledge that while she wasn’t going anywhere, nobody else was either.

This is a story I HAD to write last November. I kept spilling out of me. But it is too depressing to post in grey dull winter time, so I stalled its release until now.

Please do not read this if you are feeling down or depressed or are easily be pulled emotionally down!

If you are thinking about suicide, please get help. There are a lot of people out there willing to help whatever is the reason.
Suicide is never a solution!

Luv,
Louise

"I put my self-doubt aside. The question was, who did Liz think I was? And, could I be that person?"