In the morning I get up.

Not immediately — I lie still for a moment first, the way I've started doing, taking stock of the day before it begins. The chest there, the weight of it against the mattress, familiar now in the manner that things become familiar when you've woken to them for over a week. The mild awareness of last night's underwear, which has done what underwear does now, the slight damp of it, and I get up and deal with this in the bathroom before I do anything else. The mechanics of this have become unremarkable.

I shower. I dress.

I've been lurking here for a long time but writing fiction is not my thing. Recently, in the comments of a story, CindySadnya mentioned that she found me very good with words and hoped to check what I've written here, and this got me thinking. While I'm still convinced that my mind is not built for writing stories I might nevertheless produce something that people here would consider worth reading. So, let's try this mood piece about days long past.

Bob and Tessa’s Place, Ocean Front Condo, Virginia Beach, Va.
Bob looks over towards Tessa, who was sound asleep on their bed. They just got back from California last night. Dr. Jessica Blake was successful in transplanting the reproductive organs from Tessa to his body, without any problems.

This story is a sequel to a story I wrote several years ago, "To the Mana Born." Readers are invited to revisit the earlier story (already here at Big Closet) to find out about what's gone on before.

“Damien, it is nice to see you again. I had hoped that it would be under better circumstances.”

“Thank you, Mrs Thompson.”

“Paula, please.”

Chapter 29 – On the trail

The following morning, I was woken by my hostess entering the bedroom carrying a laden tray.

“You’re awake at last. I’ve brought us breakfast and most importantly coffee. You must have been exhausted, darling. Last night you fell asleep in my arms.” These words were accompanied by a reproachful moue of disappointment across her lovely features.

“What?”

Samantha begins volunteering at Willow House, where an unfamiliar uniform, new responsibilities, and a community depending on her make the disguise harder to escape.

“Opal, Sapphire, Ivory and Peridot … please report to the Colonel at 09:30 in No.2 Uniforms.” was announced over the newly installed loudspeaker system.

Opal looked at the others. “We have job to do it seems.”

When the four were ushered into the Colonel’s office they saluted, were told to be at ease, and then were asked to sit.

“We have been approached to carry out what would appear to be a simple task, but may be anything but simple.”

Torn from his own world and stuffed into the body of a villainess, facing the end of a doomed route he himself wrote, "Amelia" must navigate a world she really should know - too bad she was never great at worldbuilding.

Stuck in a world she (maybe) created, Amelia quickly finds that reality has filled in the details she failed to describe. The characters who were so flat when she wrote them now have nuance, and motives. The kingdom she wrote into existence is experiencing internal strife she never even thought about. And let's not even get into the complexities of the magic system, or the demon that forced her into this situation to begin with...

Oh, and then there's the fact that she's about to be arrested and executed... but surely she can come up with a way to write herself out of that, right?

...Right?

It all started one day when I was complaining about work again,
my wife Sara said if I was unhappy at work then I should stay at home
as the housewife and she would go to work. I said it sounded a good
idea. Sara said she would start to look for a decent job, when she had
found one then I should give my notice. About a month later Sara had
found a job and she would start in a months time, so she said I should
give my weeks notice.

As the door opened, a bell bracketed to the wall rang. “Welcome to the Magic Shoppe,” the tall, thin man behind the counter announced. “What can I do for you today?”

The man in his mid-thirties approached the counter. He mostly ignored the maid sweeping near the front of the shop. “I hope you can help. I need to be a woman.”

“Interesting. How long have you wanted to be a woman?”

“I haven’t.”

“I knew this would be interesting.”

“I’m in love.”

CHAPTER 55
"Where, then?”

“We’ve got ten days at the Gold Coast, all inclusive”

Erwin mock-frowned.

“Told him I did better food, and could get him a deal at King River caravan park, but would he listen? Kids of today, got no gratitude”

The lad just grinned.

“Still got to fly to Perth for the connection, though. Be about the same flight time altogether as going to Bali, just don’t need a passport. Direct flight from Perth to the Gold Coast, though”