Double
A Short Story (or a Pocket Novel for holiday reading?)
By Maryanne Peters

Chapter 1

“I understand that you may have known Ivan Sergeivich Molonovsky,” said the man they simply knew as Grozny – the man in charge of deployments.

“We were not close, but I remember him,” said Kiril. It was a lie. He had known Ivan well. They trained together because the two of them were the smallest in the whole intake. But the rumor was that Ivan had betrayed the Soviet Union, and it was best to deny any association.

A slender figure walked out onto the wide bridge. The sun descending in the western sky cast a wide shadow from the west side of the canyon and bathed the east side in a reddish glow.

It felt, after the initial panic had passed, that his whole world was about to come crashing down around his ears. It was bad enough that he’d left his rucky on the train complete with money, passport and change of clothes, to add to the woe he was in Germany and it was Sunday afternoon but the real issue, the bit that scared him most, was he was dressed as his alter ego, Bianca. What had possessed him to even think it was a remotely good idea to ‘bring’ Bianca on the trip?

What are you going to be doing during the Christmas break Joey?” my mum asked while I was relaxing with a glass of cider back at home from university for the holidays.

The Journey of a Slave ...PART 1....by Allexcited69 alias Miss Valerie Dubois

Alma Mater
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Oliver Furness came to me in 1898 – I remember that it was the year that the Spanish American War ended. He had a scholarship to the University, or thought he had. He saw that my boarding house and health clinic offered lower rates for “students with refined manners” and considered that described him well enough. He was a slightly built young man, seemingly ready to study, as I had been at the same age.

The lynching tree is the oldest living thing on our farm. It was here when the first white men
came and it’s still here and growing. I guess the black folks around here have always called it that. Back when I was in elementary school Reverend Amos James began calling for the tree to be destroyed as “a symbol of white oppression.” That’s when everyone started calling it the lynching tree. Before that we just called it the big oak.

Barbie Bride

I looked at her from the corner of my eye, she was definitely flustered but I could care less, she was their mother and the behavior of her children were her own concern...my problem was that they were most likely going to distract me with their constant banter and shenanigans throughout the entire church service.

All those Firsts ... the First Panties

I'm sure it was a panty that was the first first.

Yes - I’m just that bit different – yeah, THAT bit and I wear woman’s clothes - every day. And it can be wonderful. There are risks - but... I've got through the horrors. Overall, I love what I am and how I present as a confident woman.

Starlight Champion
by Lily Rasputin

I wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear the melodious sounds heralding Harouth’s arrival. After all, the buzzing in the base of my skull had been going off for almost ten minutes. More than enough time to extricate myself from whatever mundane task I was doing and change.

We were late getting up the next morning. Lisa met Helen in her dressing gown and showed her to the lounge whilst I speed-dressed, no need for shaving any more. I slowed down to make a dignified entry into the lounge, Helen was sitting on her usual armchair and rose to greet me.

“Sorry I’m late, slept in…”

“Looks like you both did… all OK?”

“Yes, great… definitely, great…”

“I’ve something for you, things are a little more relaxed here than in the UK.”

The promised rain had finally caught up with me around two miles from home. The shower was heavy, so much for the forecast of just the odd light shower.

“Last call everyone. You no have to go home, but you cannot stay!”

The bartender, Jakob Adamovich, bellowed. He was the sole worker, except for his wife and mother who worked in the back of house to deliver the best cheeseburger with a pretzel crust to ever grace the planet. I was able to try it once, three weeks prior when they had an extra one after someone mouthed off to the six-foot-three Jake who threw him out with absolutely no effort. Jake allowed me to sit at a table at the back of the bar so I could study as it was difficult to do homework by the dashboard light.

Lucas’s makeup skills are challenged, but something very unexpected happens when he puts those skills to work.

 
It is now the 2nd November. but the shops are already bedecked with all the toys, food and decorations for Christmas. Perhaps time to put pen to paper for the Christmas story. As always, I am not fussed about the story being a formal entry to the contest, but I hope readers will enjoy the story, and it may act as a prompt for other people to join in and make an entry.

The next morning at the breakfast table a freshly grounded Tracie was almost shouting. "If I was a boy, I wouldn't be grounded, and we wouldn't even be having this discussion right now!”

Speaking through his teeth, Tracie's dad spat, "You ARE a boy!"

"No. No, she's not."

It was spoken quietly, almost unheard, but it had a force behind it that shut everyone up.

Corinne looked at her husband, "Face it, honey, she's not a boy and hasn’t been for a long time, if ever, really." He sat back down and put his forehead in his hands, staring at his plate.

Ed makes an accidental discovery at work that challenges his ideology. Should he go to HR and demand that Carl act appropriately, at least while he’s at work?

The yacht’s motion started to ease as we proceeded south, coming into the shelter of the Crete coast. We got up and dressed, donned our lifejackets and made our way up to the bridge. All was quiet. George was asleep on the guest bench at the rear of the bridge, his head on Maria’s lap. Her head was tilted to the side, somewhat asleep as well. Jorge was helming, Dimitri and Greg were nowhere to be seen. We crept to Jorge so as not to wake Maria or George; he whispered that the others were in their bunks. Dimitri was due on the helm in an hour or so.