Sister, Sister, Sister - Part 3
By Missy Crystal

Twelve year old Johnny wants to play Barbies with his sisters, but Barbies are for girls. How can Johnny join the game? A sweet, sentimental story about a young boy's discovery of the girl he should have been with the help of his sisters and mother. This is a story I wrote a couple of years ago and I am posting it here for those who would like to know more about Dr. Jenny Mitchell. It is complete, for those who anguish over being left hanging, but too long for a single post.

Sister, Sister, Sister - Part 2
By Missy Crystal

Twelve year old Johnny wants to play Barbies with his sisters, but Barbies are for girls. How can Johnny join the game? A sweet, sentimental story about a young boy's discovery of the girl he should have been with the help of his sisters and mother. This is a story I wrote a couple of years ago and I am posting it here for those who would like to know more about Dr. Jenny Mitchell. It is complete, for those who anguish over being left hanging, but too long for a single post.

FOLLOWING THE SOMEWHAT shattering discovery that after my latest sojourn back to 1944 I had returned with a girl’s body, Mummy and Auntie Greta had taken me shopping for girl clothes, and Mummy used her mobile to ’phone Dr MacNeish who said that luckily she had had a cancellation and could see me at five o’clock that afternoon.

PART 7: THE THIRD DATE

Rorie was released from the hospital seven days after she was admitted. She thanked Dr. Goldberg for everything he had done and her mother, Tara and Keri escorted her home. She stayed in bed at home for another two weeks while her body finished repairing itself. Keri visited Rorie more at her home than she was allowed to at the hospital and helped out with everything from bringing her meals to changing the sheets on the bed once or twice and helping her with her makeup. When Keri began doing Rorie's makeup at the hospital, she decided that she should teach Rorie how to use makeup, and it became a regular part of time together. During Rorie's home convalescence, she and Keri began to discuss making their third date happen.

During the next two weeks, Rorie could get up out of bed, but she would tire very quickly, and their third date would have to wait a while longer.

Six weeks after the accident, Rorie and Keri finally got a chance to have their third date — alone. They arranged to have their third date at Rorie’s home at a time when Rorie’s mother would not be there. She was attending the retirement party of a coworker one Friday night and Rorie chose exactly that Friday for her date with Keri. She coaxed Tara to make plans elsewhere with her friends and Tara, with a wry smile on her face, agreed to be out of the house.

WRONG NUMBER
Part 5: Turn for the Worst

“Sharon, nobody’s home! Shit, I have to talk to her! Let me try to call her one more time.”
“Okay.”

Keri sat down in the car, pulled out her cellphone and dialed my number. This time somebody answered -- somebody who had clearly been crying.

“H-hello, um, this is Kelly’s phone.”
“Hi, this is Keri calling. I really need to talk to her. Is she there?”

The voice began to cry again.

“Keri, this is Tara, Kelly’s sister. Kelly had a terrible accident.”

WRONG NUMBER
PART 3: Second Date

On the night of our first date, my sister Tara was playfully teasing me about my newfound romance while I dialed Keri's number on my cellphone. She giggled at me while I began talking with Keri. Keri and I had a really nice talk reminiscing on our first date and revealing everything about what we had feared going into it. At the end of the chat, we agreed to meet again at the same mall.

Our second date was a double-date with Chloe and her boyfriend. Keri and I were not worried about each other anymore by that point, but sometimes you had to do one more little thing to make your inner worry-wart shut the hell up. I was more than happy to make it a double-date. I would have done anything to see Keri again!

I showed up at the mall again dressed as a girl. This time, as a twist of irony, I wore an outfit nearly identical to the one Keri had described herself wearing during our first, fateful phone call. I had on a dark lavender top, denim skirt with frayed hem, and black tights. I wanted it to be my way of saying that the magic was still alive and well —- or that I wanted it to be, anyway.

WRONG NUMBER
PART I: The Wrong Number

How extraordinary it was what a simple mistake could bring about! I had intended to phone my schoolmate and casual friend Matt about a homework assignment when my life took a decidedly unexpected turn. I dialed Matt’s number without paying too much attention since I knew it without having to look it up. The phone was answered after the third ring.

“Hello?”

Hey, that’s not Matt. That’s a girl’s voice! Oh shit, does Matt have a girlfriend? I didn’t know about that, the sly devil!

“Oh, er, hi. Is Matt there? I’m hope I’m not int--”
“Who the hell is Matt?”

Jack @ the Greenstalk.
By Angharad.

Author’s Note. I wrote this a while ago for a certain young person who enjoys my stories. It could stop here or it could run to another episode (but no more). Comments from readers would be appreciated. After the mayhem of Falling Off A Bike, this is a gentle tale.

“Where’s your case?”

“Erm, upstairs.”

Fate wore a pony tail and a red dress. We were both attending a large group ballroom dancing lesson along with perhaps two hundred other kids our age, all of whom attended schools in town. Our mid-lesson break had just begun when the lovely girl headed my way.
Christina was a very pretty girl with pretty blue eyes and shoulder length, light brown hair. She wore a red, short-sleeve, cotton dress that hung just below her knees and had a sparse floral pattern on it. She wore suntan nylons, and black, leather flats — and she was headed my way.

Everything began during my sister Dierdre’s slumber party one Friday night. My twin sister, Kirsten, was away for the night at a friend’s house. The only other person in the house was my single mom, and she had to leave on business.

Dierdre’s party was fairly small. There were only three other girls there, Alexis, Karen and Caitlin. I could usually find something else to do, but when there were pretty girls in the house they would command my attention and pique my curiosity. I had never spied on my sister before today, but I couldn’t resist. She and her friends were pretty and I always loved to see what they were wearing and how they did their hair.

The girls all arrived around noon. Because my mom had to be away on business that night, my sister had had to negotiate with her to have the slumber party. My mom asked who would be present at the party and when Dierdre listed the names of the three girls that she’d invited, Mom recognized them as good kids, not the trouble making sort at all. Satisfied that they could be trusted, she allowed the party. She asked Dierdre what they would be doing for dinner and she said that Alexis’ mom was picking them up and taking them to dinner. Mom figured that was good; it meant that we’d have adult supervision at least part of the time. She left money so that Dierdre could pay for herself, her friends and me and warned her not to leave me home alone at night or else. She said that if Dierdre would prefer I go to a friend’s for dinner instead of having dinner with the girls then that would be all right too.

By Missy Crystal
All Dolled Up - Part IX

Jamie wants his mother to buy him a doll for a birthday present. She does and a journey of discovery begins for both of them.

The Interview — Part II
By Barbara Lynn Terry

I sat in the kitchen, after getting home. I made myself a cup of tea, and just thought about what had happened today. I applied for work as a waitress, dressed as a woman. The manager liked my attitude and hired me, telling me I start in the morning. Since I started at six A.M., I went in my bedroom, and set my alarm clock. Then I took out my uniform from the package, and put it on the back of my chair, very neatly, so as not to wrinkle it.

I watched deep blue lighten to gray, felt that extra stillness, extra
quiet of a weekend morning in a strictly-business downtown. Standing by
the hotel window, I stared down the long, straight, empty streets of
this place I didn't know, at all the hopes and happiness, despair and
desperation sheltering under the endless neat rows of roofs, beneath

It's not as simple as desire, not just a layer, or even two. It's art.

Perhaps it was when I lifted my foot, to untie my shoe, and pants rose
just enough to show the smallest band of smooth and newly-shaven skin,
that we decided on a painting, not a sketch. I saw my secret exposed. I
saw him look. I looked up at his face, tried a small smile.

By late afternoon, I was feeling pretty sure I'd called it right to
come up here. I phoned the boss, reported not quite as optimistically
as I felt and told myself that I was clocking out.

The evening rush home had started, horns and rumbling of motors as
downtown spilled its people out for another night. I went the way the
red lights let me; to the corner where he'd said his store was. I

A troll without his bridge is like a potato bug without a potato. Let us explore what happens when such a separation occurs. No, not when a potato bug loses its potato. Who wants to read a TG story about a bug? Now such a tale about a troll, a tale of triumph ... that makes a lot more sense. Doesn’t it? Well ... umm ... yeah ... hey look a pterodactyl.

The Real Me
By Maggie the Kitten

This isn't a fantasy story. It's just something amazing that happened to me and I wanted to share it.

I sat on the bed and picked up Teddy. At least he didn’t have a go at me and listened to me, even though I was far too old for him and shouldn’t talk to him really.

By Missy Crystal
All Dolled Up - Part VIII

Jamie wants his mother to buy him a doll for a birthday present. She does and a journey of discovery begins for both of them.