Fate wore a pony tail and a red dress. We were both attending a large group ballroom dancing lesson along with perhaps two hundred other kids our age, all of whom attended schools in town. Our mid-lesson break had just begun when the lovely girl headed my way.
Christina was a very pretty girl with pretty blue eyes and shoulder length, light brown hair. She wore a red, short-sleeve, cotton dress that hung just below her knees and had a sparse floral pattern on it. She wore suntan nylons, and black, leather flats — and she was headed my way.

Everything began during my sister Dierdre’s slumber party one Friday night. My twin sister, Kirsten, was away for the night at a friend’s house. The only other person in the house was my single mom, and she had to leave on business.

Dierdre’s party was fairly small. There were only three other girls there, Alexis, Karen and Caitlin. I could usually find something else to do, but when there were pretty girls in the house they would command my attention and pique my curiosity. I had never spied on my sister before today, but I couldn’t resist. She and her friends were pretty and I always loved to see what they were wearing and how they did their hair.

The girls all arrived around noon. Because my mom had to be away on business that night, my sister had had to negotiate with her to have the slumber party. My mom asked who would be present at the party and when Dierdre listed the names of the three girls that she’d invited, Mom recognized them as good kids, not the trouble making sort at all. Satisfied that they could be trusted, she allowed the party. She asked Dierdre what they would be doing for dinner and she said that Alexis’ mom was picking them up and taking them to dinner. Mom figured that was good; it meant that we’d have adult supervision at least part of the time. She left money so that Dierdre could pay for herself, her friends and me and warned her not to leave me home alone at night or else. She said that if Dierdre would prefer I go to a friend’s for dinner instead of having dinner with the girls then that would be all right too.

This is a work of fiction, though it does contain actual data and some conjecture. If you don't like tears, I would suggest not reading this. This is my first attempt at a standalone story (heck, any story period) and would ask for any and all words of wisdom and criticism. I would like to thank Kaleigh for her encouragement and my spousal unit for her proofing help.

Thanks and hugs

I watched deep blue lighten to gray, felt that extra stillness, extra
quiet of a weekend morning in a strictly-business downtown. Standing by
the hotel window, I stared down the long, straight, empty streets of
this place I didn't know, at all the hopes and happiness, despair and
desperation sheltering under the endless neat rows of roofs, beneath

Sheila shooed me off to the lounge where the other girls were watching TV. Blue Peter was on and Valerie Singleton was doing something with sticky back plastic.

By late afternoon, I was feeling pretty sure I'd called it right to
come up here. I phoned the boss, reported not quite as optimistically
as I felt and told myself that I was clocking out.

The evening rush home had started, horns and rumbling of motors as
downtown spilled its people out for another night. I went the way the
red lights let me; to the corner where he'd said his store was. I

You always worry, can they see? Is there something, maybe the way
you've let your hand relax or your wrist bend, despite all the times
you've caught yourself and clenched your fingers, straightened the
curve. Something -- the way you hold a hand to your mouth? Or tilt your
head? Why do you hook your knees together when you sit: ankle on

It was getting dark when I got there, and I'd managed to get off the
wrong exit, too, guessing downtown was where it wasn't, as I always do.
It meant an anxious tour through the dark and empty streets down by the
river, looking for a place to stay, finding nothing until I finally
passed an open space -- park or vacant lot, I couldn't tell and didn't

Sometimes, despite a breath of breeze across the inky river, the night air seemed almost liquid with the lingering heat ....

I try to shape my days now by my work. Numbers in charts, words battered out of a keyboard, spit out from a whirring printer: Let's say it is work like that I do, work meant for grey-walled cubicles under flickering fluorescent lights.

The fountain that my own fingers recall, nothing like this: Drawn from a pond, a puddle. But, oh, how I felt an ocean of you crashing in. Ocean: warm saltiness of life, thick with potential, humming with energy barely contained, condensed of beating hearts and fluttering gills and lashing tails of a million, of a billion tiny creatures saying: Live, live.

by Phantasi Boi

Intro: Here’s chapter 4 of my 1st attempt at a serial. As always I welcome comments be they praise or criticism. Please don’t be angry if I get any facts wrong regarding gender issues, it is only a story, besides the characters themselves could be getting it wrong rather than me. Feel free to point out any errors I make though.

They hadn’t noticed Nadine walk back in; she heard this last comment despite the fact they were talking quietly.

“Erm, no not at all, we were just talking about someone else.”

Jewel the exotic dancer has a successful life in the fleshpots of northwestern Japan, but is there something important she's forgotten? CAUTION: contains explicit sexual scenes.

by Phantasi Boi

Intro: Here’s my 1st attempt at a serial, I don’t know how long it will be as yet, or where it’s headed, I’m making it up as I go along. I welcome comments be they praise or criticism. I know I’m a novice and there’s no way this will be as good as my favourite stories on here, but I’m trying my best.

“Well you don’t help the situation, if you’d have a haircut like your dad keeps suggesting, you might look a bit more masculine.” She replied

“I like long hair, I’ve always had long hair, I don’t see how that makes me look like a girl” he said sulkily

Craig has become increasing depressed because of his
desire to become a woman and the inability to do so. However, after a
design flaw is discovered, the opportunity finally presents itself.

I then selected my tightest skirt, which happened to be the calf-length burgundy one that I had last worn just before Lucy had spilled the beans about the hormones. I remembered thinking I had put on some weight because it had hugged my hips so well…