Sent By Sophia

Chapter 17: Midpoint

A Transgender Coming of Age Adventure

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

*

Tommy walked home from the bus stop, his long blond hair swaying against the small of his back. He was five foot four, a height he had reached recently and likely the end of the line, considering his father had stopped at the exact same mark. With his soft features and the way his hair caught the light, he looked like a mirrored image of his mother, only thirteen years younger. When they went out together, strangers often complimented his mother on her "pretty daughter." After a few years of it, Julia and Tommy had simply stopped correcting them.

CHAPTER 29
Breakfast was as almost as limited as it had been in the first two places, but here there was a much better selection of jams, plus far more tasty cold meats and cheeses. Nicer still was that instead of a cheap plate with a single piece of bread and a croissant, there was a whole array of bread to be eaten at will.

I waved at the choice before us, and grinned at Ange.

“You can pick our hotels for the rest of this trip, love”

There; that word dropped into conversation just as she had served it to me. Your call, Ms Meads.

CHAPTER 28
We moved up the coast bit by bit, starting at the spot where the mountains ended. It was surreal: the Pyrenees simply came to an abrupt halt not just at the sea, but also at the edge of a vast plain, like a crease in a bedsheet. More importantly, though, we had sand rather than gravel.

We stopped in at the tourist office, where they had a list of hotels that Ange checked against her book, until she went “Ooh! That one there. Not the most expensive, but it’s got a bloody Michelin star!”

CHAPTER 12
Work had left me frazzled, as that time of year always does. There are various interpretations of legal responsibility by both accountants and clients, and by that I mean more or less blatant breaches of the rules, as I have said. As a firm, we don’t do that, or at least I haven’t seen it. I see so many entries on websites like Companies House where accounts haven’t been filed at all, or regularly late, and I can’t do that anymore than I could shoplift. Annual accounts are, in essence, an account of a year’s business plus a snapshot of where that business is at the start of April. Some clients try their hardest to either squeeze things in or hold them back, for financial advantage, but we refuse to play that game. When those windows and doors shut, they are shut.

“How did it go at Becca’s?” asked Stephanie when Faye and Paula returned to Paula’s home near High Wycombe.

“Didn’t she give you a call?” asked Faye.

Mr. Puller gave me a cheerful, “Attagirl!”

Pete's Vagina
92. Gameface
by Erin Halfelven

"If you don't hurry up, we're leaving without you, and you're walking to school," Rachel called out from the hallway, her voice echoing off the hardwood.

Mark Lansing never wanted to stand out. He was perfectly happy disappearing into a football huddle with the rest of the team until one play made him the talk of the town. Thrust into a spotlight he never wanted, every choice can reshape his future, and every decision could transform him in ways he never believed possible. Mark’s destiny will be determined on the field … assuming he can figure out how to dress the part.

CHAPTER 27
I wasn’t that used ti flying, but by definition Ange was an old hand. There were, of course, no flights from Cardiff, so we had to take the train out to Bristol and fly from there, which spoilt my hopes of trying to spot my flat from the air. Anyway, it was raining.