“Hurry up, I’m ready to go.”

Why did I need to pee again? After all, I had nothing to be nervous about; I was just going to divulge a secret to my mother that could mean the end of all the things that I most enjoyed about last year: Cheerleading practice, Cailíní Canadh Ghleann Dhubh, dressing, being one of the girls. What could possibly go wrong?

The Volvo pulled out of the driveway; I waited until we were well on our way so my mother wouldn’t be tempted to turn back. Past Ballymore, now on the Ballyhowan Road.

“Mom, I have something to tell you.”

Noise; lots of it. I’m cold: I must have shivered as someone wrapped a warm blanket around me. Drift away again…

Noise again, light… My mother’s voice:

“I think he’s coming around.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Male, foreign, heavily accented.

“Ah; you back to us, yes?”

“Grunt”

“Whatyouname?”

“Huh?”

“He’s asking you for your name.”

Mother’s voice again.

“Name… Aisling…”

“It’s his stage name…”

Opening eyes, lights on ceiling, a man standing over me, white coat, stethoscope.

“You gonna be much longer in there?” my flatmate asks as I apply the finishing touches to my make-up and give my ever-growing hair one final brush.

“Just a sec,” I reply. “Just got one last thing to do….” I smile as I reach into my medicine drawer and retrieve the two packets of pills that over the last two weeks have become beyond precious to me. The fact that one packet is labelled ‘progesterone’ and the other ‘oestrogen’ should be all you need to know why.

Kick That Leg High

Well, it all started about eight months ago, I had been working in Vegas for a little over a month, a transplant from Southern Arizona. I came up here to try and further my career as a dancer. Of course, the chances of getting a job professionally are quite low, but dreams and ideals spur you on to keep trying. It makes it twice as hard when you are a male dancer. The majority of the dancers working in Vegas are female, buxom semi-naked females.

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

After our initial article went to press, Sightings received a flood of reader feedback. While most of the correspondence was quickly dismissed as fraudulent or cases of mistaken identity, a handful contained snapshots and Polaroids that lent unexpected credence to their claims. One correspondent even submitted a grainy 35mm home movie in which "Jean" — and, astonishingly, her oft‑noted pianist —can be seen performing at a regional televised talent quest...

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

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.

Rainbow Cactus Company, Virginia Beach, VA, USA
Jessie belts out some of their new songs as Daisy kept the beat going and have it flow right into the next song in their lineup. Two figures sit in the back of the club listening to the band play and watching as each member danced and play solo parts during the songs. The manager of the club, stood nearby with a few drag queens working that night.

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

“Going riding again with Aaron, Lindsey?”

Transgender coming of age story. Darcy has often been mistaken for a girl. In his first year at university, he joins a local highland dance team. He is (incorrectly?) assigned to the girls squad. After some months of training, Darcy joins three girls in performing a sword dance at the Inverness Highland Show. A life-changing experience.

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC