Sean was unsure exactly how to proceed, as the atmosphere on the other side of the hatch seemed almost chilly to her. The captain of the ship stood there, a tall blond Nordic type of man, no readable expression on his face. She decided to just go with being a businesslike spacer, presenting both of their papers to the man. “Captain Thorssen?” Her warm contralto seemed to just crack the surface of his icy demeanor as he reached for the proffered papers. “Sir, Sean and Charlie Barber reporting for duty.” The three of them stood there while he seemed to study their papers intently.

I Carry On

I look out the window, my forehead leaning against the cold glass, trying to see her. I let out a deep, troubled sigh as I search for her. She’s got to be out there somewhere, but how in the hell am I supposed to find her?

I ponder going out there after her, searching for her, never resting until I find her… but I know that I can not. Four weeks after my surgery, the flesh is most definitely too weak no matter how willing the spirit.

Shay Lefae, faced with a deadly illness, is thrown into a world of magic, murder, and intrigue.

It was about a week before my 13th birthday. Having come home from work unexpectedly, the Ogre---who was what passed for a masculine role model in my life---had decided to take one final stab at "making a man out of me" before writing me off forever as a hopeless little bitch...

"What the hell you cryin' for? You're a boy, nothing's gonna change that! What's that you're coverin' with your hand, huh? You think putting on a damn dress changes anything? Do you? Answer me, goddamn it!"

I stood there shivering, feeling horribly vulnerable. By now I didn't know what I was or what could change what. I was sobbing, trying to nod my head yes and shake it no at the same time.

"For God's sake Sam, that's enough! Let him get dressed."

"No, I want him to say it first! What are you?"

"I'm a boy," I blubbered.

"That's a start. Now put some damn trousers on and come with me."

In a drizzle of slushy snow I was marched across the yard to the shed, where I was forced to take part in a grotesque and humiliating ritual of destruction. This was the heart of darkness...

She cradled the guitar with the neck up by her shoulder, closed her eyes and began to warm up by playing some adlibbed Flamenco. When she got into the flow of the music, she began to play ‘La Malagueá±a’. The girls began to Tango when Angel played ‘La Cumparsita’. Angel just let the music carry her away as she kept on playing and smiling.