Cruel Love
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I have always considered myself as a driven person – some might say obsessive. Whatever you call it, it has bought me success and the admiration of my peers, but I wonder whether it is also what led me into a cruel love affair.

The following morning my mother first picked up the Twins and all our schoolbags from Niamh’s house, then on to Ciara’s. Ciara squeezed in the back while her mother sat in the front passenger seat. As we were about to pull off, Aoife remarked that Ciara didn’t have a seat belt on; there were only three belts in the back of the car. Saoirse unclipped herself from the middle seat belt, yielding it to Ciara, unclipped my belt, snuggled in beside me, and clipped us both into the one belt.

“Sorted!” she announced and my mother pulled off again.

Ashton wondered why he had even bothered to attend his prom. He was going stag, which said a lot he thought. Always there but never the main person. He looked around and saw all the people that in one way or another had made a mark in school. Bill the star quarter-back. Mary the head cheerleader. Peter, the star baseball pitcher, accompanied by his date Eric who’s batting (almost) always amazed people. Charleene the student council president. Wolfgang the school paper editor-in-chief. Martin this year’s valedictorian to be. Ashton had interacted with all of them and was constantly in their shadows. Perhaps that was his problem. All the others had focused on one thing they were good at. Ashton had let himself be spread out.

I saw the contest announcement and thought this would be just right for it. It isn't a holiday but it is transgender and it is set on an island.

This is a version of the first chapter of a story I began long ago in the Carboniferous when I was just a frond. The story was intended to be perhaps 6-8 chapters but, you know, life happened. Here's how it all began.

Life on the Beach

by Penny Lane

Gender Gymnastics
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

Barreled
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“Barreled - verb - drive or move in a way that is so fast as to almost be out of control.”

Planning a Future
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I woke early on Saturday, excited and terrified by the thoughts of the coming day. Probably more excited than terrified, yesterday’s excursion having done much to allay my fears. I checked the time; 5am. Still time for another snooze. I turned over, snuggled further into the duvet, closed my eyes, and stayed fully awake. After about 10 minutes or so, I decided I might as well get up and start to get ready. I wandered to the bathroom and was just about to step into the shower when I saw a small box on the shower tray with a note.

Wear this in the shower.

Foundation’s Hope

My mother drove me home. I was feeling very deflated about my performance, and, simultaneously, both excited and terrified at the prospect of a shopping day in Galway the following Saturday, dressed as a girl. My biggest concern was leaving our house; I didn’t know how my father would react. I contemplated getting dressed in Niamh’s house. At least all the other participants were now used to seeing me in a skirt and girl’s top. In Galway, no one would know me. Right now, I wanted just to go to bed and let sleep sort out my combination of despondency, excitement and trepidation.

The Right Guy
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It was not the Rufus was a bad lover, he was just not like me, or the way I was then. Lydia liked being fucked by Rufus, but she liked the way that I made love to her too. Is that wrong? I don’t judge her for being unfaithful.

I always knew that I was number two in her life. A girl needs a man who can provide for her, and Rufus was that. I was definitely not that man. I don’t judge her for that either. She made the right choice. Rufus is the right guy.

As the car turned off the lane leading to Niamh’s house, and onto the road towards ours, I saw the security light outside our house come on. My heart sank: This could only mean one thing; my father had just driven or walked into the farmyard. For some reason, this was a much more troubling prospect than been seen by my mother wearing one of the Twins cheerleading skirts. She had, presumably been given an explanation by Niamh so would have expected to find me dressed like this when she called to collect me.

“Does he know?”

Voice
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

My life changed when I was twelve. Up until that time I was just a normal boy. I played ball, I climbed trees, I caroused with my friends, we got dirty, and sometimes into trouble. I was entirely normal except for one thing – I had a talent.

This is a story about trans woman living her best life. It contains a sex scene

"No, I'm just a housewife."

As soon as I said that, it struck me with full force, that's what I was now to the world, just a housewife.

Sally smiled and said.

"Oh, don't say just. A housewife, Susan, it's a full-time job."

Bill's hand was working its way up my skirt under the table and was tugging the strap on my suspender belt. He loved me in stockings, which was why I wore them tonight.

Amy Lives
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It was a Sunday night - October 31, 2010 when my life changed, or maybe it began then. I had been married for less than a year to Romana, the woman I had always thought of as my best friend. We were ready to start talking about having children. I had always wanted to have children – it was a strong drive in me that I never really understood. I know now that there was a lot about myself that I did not understand, but that was going to change too.

Reposted for Valentine's Day 2026

This story contains some discriminatory language and offensive comments. These reflect the beliefs and attitudes held at that time and location and are included to help the reader understand just how things were back then….

It’s about how I dreamed it should have been…

And now for something different. Not different for me, come to think about it, but a change from the general gloom.

This is a sequel to “And the Winner is …” To understand this sequel you really need to (re)read that.

While my parents just stood there shocked Arnold said

“Until tomorrow morning then. I’ll take you up in the mountains so wear sturdy shoes and suitable skirt if you have one.

Thanks to my parents I did have one. A short one.

True to his word Arnold rang the bell at exactly 10 am. The skirt was the only girl garment I wore. Shoes, socks, shirt etc. were all my ordinary boy stuff. If only they had screamed “BOY” instead of just whisper it!

So we were supposed to restore sanity to government here after Trump, his successors and all their lackeys imploded.

Then the aliens invaded. Creatures from our myths and old scriptures forced their way in, and their races of Good Guys are saving us from the more obviously evil ones. The aliens in ultimate charge resemble the old pantheons of gods and goddesses here on Earth. But the real threat is that their emissaries -- elves, fae, human-animal hybrids, pixies, whatever -- have replaced or converted a lot of our own family members into their new races, and they seem primed to take over, unless what remains of humanity can stop them.