Sanctuary
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“I know who you are,” said Mother Sophia. His hair hung loose instead of pulled back in a slick ponytail, and he had wispy hairs on what had always been a clean-shaven face, making it just look dirty. But it was unmistakably Esteban Moya, son of Carlos Moya, the dictator recently deposed.

Influenced
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“Pernicious” is the word. The internet is pernicious. Pernicious and addictive.

What is an “influencer”? How can they trap people the way they do? It is pernicious.

I was just an ordinary guy. A shy person. I suppose one of the generation brought up with a screen before my eyes. Introverted you might say. Absorbed by the screen. Absorbed by the world wide web.

Witches
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

You do not choose your religion, almost all adopt the religion of their parents. And sometimes the religion that you are born into cannot be described by a word. So, I have always said that I was raised as a wiccan. I can call myself a wiccan. But that is not quite true.

Amazon
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I was born in Morocco into a Moroccan Jewish family. My family had been living in Morocco for many generations after my ancestors were driven from Spain by the Christians. I have always considered myself to be North African.

Try Lesbianism
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

What man would be happy to hear his wife declare that she was a lesbian? That she was a lesbian and did not find him sexually attractive? That she never had?

I mean, such a husband would think: Is it something I did that turned you away from men? Or, if you have always felt this way, what does that say about me? Am I less of a man? When we make love, do you think of me as female to get off?

Zoran’s Story
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Closer Friends
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Part 1

Gabe yanked the towel back around his waist. “I wish you hadn’t seen that, man,” he said. The initial shock of being seen had been replaced by frustration. He needed to finally explain … at last. The dreaded day that “might come“, had arrived.

Mal’s eyes blazed. “What the fuck? What the fuck was that?”

Stiff Upper Lips
Inspired by John’s Message
By Maryanne Peters

Jonathan Hanscombe and Rupert Burlew had secured for themselves the two large leather armchairs by the window in the sitting room of Arthur’s in St. James. The window offered a view down the street of St. James Square (as it was then known) to the Gardens, but in the afternoon, it was the lightest area of the otherwise dark rooms of that ancient establishment.

Waif
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Independence
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Part 1

It was supposed to be an experiment in socialization. No physical changes except some blockers to hold back the growth of a beard and make the male genitals sit quietly in the delicate panties. Just to play with the male mind. And then it would be over. There would be a follow up in a week or two to confirm re-assimilation as a male. I suppose I never thought that was in doubt.

Laurenina
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Dolores collapsed in a heap on the sofa in the dressing room.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can handle,” she moaned. “This show is killing me. I don’t know how much longer my voice can take this.”

The Bedsit
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“I have good news”, he said. “There is still no room at my place, but you can at a bedsit just down the hall from us. And better still the rent is minimal.” Harry seemed pleased with himself.

“What’s the catch?” I asked. London was a hard place to find anything, let alone in his location.

Sporus
A Short Story
Based on fact as recorded in the Annals of Ancient Rome
By Maryanne Peters

Transwife
A Diatribe
By Maryanne Peters

This is not a happy story. I like a happy stories, but this is not one of those.

It started happily enough, from a point. Transgirl wrestles with her problem, transgirl comes out, transgirl cause family commotion, transgirl becomes accepted by family (all except one), transgirl transitions, transgirl becomes accepted at work (all except one), transgirl saves money, transgirl gets her dream anatomy, transgirl meets guy, transgirl falls in love, transgirl marries her man …

Searching
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It barely rang twice. She was waiting for his call. He was always happy to hear her voice, whatever the circumstances. She asked: “Honey where are you?”

“I’m still in the Quarter,” he said. “I haven’t found him yet, but I have some news. It’s been very … unsettling.”

“Oh,” she said. She sounded very worried, so he felt that he needed to reassure her.

Gran’s Tale
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Well, if you want to talk about gangs, and that kind of life, you might be surprised to know that both your grandfather and I, were involved in gangs when we were younger.

I will tell you the story if you like, but do not interrupt me. I should tell you first that the story contains sex, violence and bad language, but nothing much more than what is on TV these days. I am sure that your parents will forgive me.

Sikh
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Sheba recognized Anjit immediately and pulled him inside.

“Quickly,” she said. “Into the storeroom. You need to stay out of sight.”

“They are searching the houses,” Anjit said, the fear dripping from his voice. “They are looking for blood. Nothing I say can stop them. They are crazed. They have killed my parents. Just because they think they look like terrorists.”

Sprung
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“It’s time”, he said.

I had only just laid down on the sliding bed that was to pass me into the MRI machine. Minutes before the two prison guards with me had been told that no weapons or anything metallic was allowed in the room while the MRI was operating. The Hispanic one had handed his belt and weapon to the other and gone inside with me, his charge. He now lay unconscious on the floor nearby. The man standing over me spoke again:

“This is it. You’re sprung. Come with me and keep it quiet.”

Virtuality
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“I call her Pandora,” said Felix. “Get used to her. This is why I need you. This kind of interaction has to be a two-person thing.”

Jake was used to virtual reality. It was his thing after all. But here he was in their apartment. The only thing different was that he was in another body. When he held his hand up he could see that it was not his hand at all, it was a slender feminine hand, with manicured nails.

The Slit
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“Please sit down, Mr McGann.” Senior consulting urologist, Dr. Lambert Pitt did not lift his eyes from the patient file in front of him. “I am just checking my notes. Now let me see … you came to see me, two months ago, regarding concern that your genitals might be shrinking.”

“That’s right, you told me that there was nothing wrong.”

The Surgeon
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I know that I have an affliction. I am, after all, a man of science. A physician. A surgeon, and a good one. I know that my urges are abnormal, even aberrant. But urges, by their very nature, do not allow for control by logic.