No More Worlds to Conquer
A Short Story being an Alternative Retelling of History
By Maryanne Peters

Chapter 5

We all went to the shop to take our pick. It was sixteen well-dressed and made-up women who were picked up by a bus and taken to the restaurant that the four of us had been before. We were ushered to a private room where Khepri was waiting with his parents. There was also Abbas, his wife, Heba, her husband, as well as a few of the Museum administration and Gyasi with his wife.

It's time to stand up, stand out, BE out (maybe)

I hope my friends are friendly.

I’m not actually OUT but I’m opening to more people.

Set against the vibrant and atmospheric backdrop of Japan, The Tale of My Beautiful Onii-san follows 18-year-old Haruki as he arrives in Kyoto, eager to reconnect with his cousin Yuki after years apart. But nothing could prepare him for the shocking transformation he finds. Drawn into Yuki’s mysterious world, Haruki embarks on a journey of self-discovery, family secrets, and hidden truths. In this suspenseful and heartfelt tale, he learns that family bonds in Japan can be as intricate—and as unbreakable—as the secrets they keep.

Chapter 9

The next few months went by in a rush of business, hospital visits, the odd Weed Run, and life in general. Al and I were regulars on the Weed Runs, with Cate coming along occasionally, with Angelique looking after Jenny.

Pablo and Antonio were good contacts, telling us a lot about life on the island. It was their sales of weed that allowed them to live above subsistence. We discovered that the cigars came from the Party Headquarters, with some going missing before the final delivery.

Chapter 8

It was dark again when I woke up. Cate had stripped me while I was out to the world and covered me up. I was having dreams about shooting people, only to wake to realise that my dreams were only a reenactment of real life. When I put a gown on and went to the toilet, Cate was there to help me stagger into the kitchen, where she plied me with a fry up.

Chapter 7

Cate was brought home an hour later, after I had put Jenny to bed. I had changed out of my dress and into a nightie and gown. When she walked in, I made sure to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She went off to change and we sat with our wine, talking about anything but what had happened that evening.

Title

The New Girl at Uskweirs Manor

a pastoral romance by Miriam Robern

Correspondence, Concoctions, and Coaching

Monmouthshire, May 1812

Dearest Mother—

I hope this letter finds both you and Father well and in good spirits.  I myself have been blessed with good health in the last few months.

Chapter 5

“Would you believe that I would never have been on that ferry unless an American colleague hadn’t suggested a walking holiday on Palma. I was planning a trip to the Black Forest, not the Black Sea!”

We both smiled and I reached out to hold her hand. For three days, we met in the mess and spent some time in the small gym, getting our strength back. Around us, life in the submarine carried on, with drills breaking the monotony. On the fourth day, everything changed.

Title

The New Girl at Uskweirs Manor

a pastoral romance

by Miriam Robern

A Fateful House Party

Monmouthshire, May 1812

Miss Amelia Wright gained access to Uskweirs Manor by supplying a false name.  The attendant at the door dipped his head, murmured, “Of course, sir,” and gestured her within.

“You’ve led kind of a sheltered existence,” she said, “being Jennifer only in relatively safe places at safe times. Most girls are in danger of that kind of thing at least a few times a year, if not every day — it depends on their circumstances. But it’s still worth it, being a girl.”

“I don’t remember us ordering the calamari appetizer,” I said aloud to myself.

Chapter 1

What am I doing?
By Daring Diane

“Billy, I let you move in, because I needed someone to cover half the rent and utilities. It’s been months and I’m running out of savings.”

“I spent everything completing my degree.”

“Great. You have a college degree. It’s time to get a job.”

“I apply every day. No one is hiring.”

“You need a job. Work at Starbucks or some restaurant.”

Flowers
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

A florist is not a job for a young man, or so my father told me. It was just that I was always a delicate person. I still am.

There is something about flowers that touched me deep in my soul. This is something that is made by nature to look pretty, smell enchanting and taste sweet. What is there in all creation that exists purely for joy? Well, perhaps there is another thing – certain nerve endings. Did you know that flowers are the sex organ of a plant? It is all about sex in the end.