Voting for the Short Story Month February 2012 Contest is over. I debated leaving the voting open another day to see if we could get 150 voters but we need 20 more and we did not get 20 voters on the last day of voting and I don't think we would get 20 more with one more day. So there are only five prizes instead of six.
Here are the results of the voting.
130 voters cast their ballots and the top five stories all won $29 for their writers:
Girl Detective Redux - A Beginning by Roberta J Cabot
9% (48 votes)
Submitted by Maeryn Lamonte on Tue, 2012/02/28 - 5:09am
A Path Less Travelled
by Maeryn Lamonte
Damien's wife can't cope with his cross dressing. She gives him an ultimatum, either the clothes go or she does. Damien's not prepared to give up on their marriage yet, so persuades her to accept a compromise, a different route that might work out better for both of them.
Submitted by Vanessa Danville on Sat, 2012/02/25 - 6:17pm
by Vanessa Danville
I helped him with his shoes then held his little light blue jacket open for him and watched as he slid his arms into the sleeves, as I zipped it up the Hello Kitty logo on the chest of the jacket seemed to wink at me. It looked like it might rain so I pulled his hood up then lead him outside.
It was just a 10 minute drive so we only got to listen to a couple of Disney songs before we turned the car into Auntie Karen’s street and then pulled up outside.
I lead him up the path with a nervous knot in my stomach, were either of us really ready for such a drastic change?
My sister Sherry and older brother Jack usually called Jackie had just culminated a bet, agreeing to allow my sister and her friend, Donna to dress me like a girl, so that I could appear on stage with them on Saturday night.
The girls grabbed me, and dragged me out of the garage and into the house.
As they draggedme away, I wondered how I got into this predicament and I feared the consequences.
Submitted by Maeryn Lamonte on Mon, 2012/02/20 - 5:39pm
Luck be a Lady by Maeryn Lamonte
Charlie's been invited to a stag party at a casino. He's been given a hundred pounds worth of chips to gamble away as he likes, but he's really not interested.
Then he meets an attractive young woman with startling green eyes. Maybe she'll change his luck, but how much?
There's a bit of crude language in this one, but other than that no caution necessary – unless of course you're allergic to controversy. I think I may have found a hornet's nest in this one and poked it with a stick. I'm looking forward to the comments on this one and hoping I don't upset anyone too much.
Scratch that earlier comment on the word count. MS Word put the initial value at just over 10,000 and I've since managed to bring the number down to 9,996.
Submitted by The Last Boy Scout on Mon, 2012/02/20 - 8:18am
(My Submission for the short story contest, It just called out to me this last week while I had some time at work. I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you have some fun reading it. Though I had to cut words like they were my children to get it under 10,000.)
Someone has taken one of the few things I hold precious, and I intend to get her back. I have wrecked worlds, scattered tribes, slain dragons and stolen princess from sleeping Elven Kings. I have laid armies to waste and led them to victory, I have crushed spirits and captured souls, and some of that was against people I liked.
Submitted by Maggie_Finson on Sun, 2012/02/19 - 10:03pm
I am the Lady of the Lake. I tempt, I attract, I play. I am death in a beautiful guise. What you wish, I am, I will be, and will give you pleasure as you've never known. I will make your dreams come true.
This is the poignant story of Henry Thomas Wells. A hero to some, while to others noting more than a school yard bully. With his father gone and his mom all to willing to believe those who have accused her son of wrong doing. His life soon seems to spin out of control. Tim, Tammy, and many other know the truth but Hank will not allow anyone to stand up for him and what he did. Every hero needs a villain, You decide which he was.
(Authors note) I had to remove or edit much of the events that landed Hank in his condition. They are referred to in other parts of the story. Take the tissue alert to heart as even my editor shed more than a few tears over this one. I was/am hesitant to tag the story as forced femm even though it reads that way. A perceptive reader will realize he did it willing even though it was presented as an ultimatum.
Submitted by JulieDCole on Sun, 2012/02/19 - 12:53am
The Woman I am
By Julie D Cole
The story behind the poem The Girl Inside
I stood in front of the large full length mirror that my wife had often used to check herself out as she dressed for special occasions. The reflection gave me gave me quite a fright since I hadn’t taken much interest in myself for quite a while as my wife and I had seemed to disagree about most things and argued a lot.
Submitted by Jennifer Sue on Sat, 2012/02/18 - 9:04pm
Kiss Your Elbow and Become a Girl
by Jennifer Sue
There is an old saying that periodically makes the rounds of schools. It’s really silly and quite impossible but at the same time holds a strange fascination for those who hear it. It’s mostly used by girls to tease boys. “If you kiss your elbow you change into a girl”. The near physical impossibility of kissing your own elbow is one of the more unusual parts of this childhood mythology. According to the legends, a peck to the elbow would bring about an instantaneous sex change. For most boys, it was a threat of a terrible fate, something never to do. After all, most kids would never want to be a member of the opposite sex; they're icky, and may even have cooties! The most common version of the myth was that kissing your elbow at any time would cause a sex change. It doesn't matter if it's by accident or intent, if your lips touch your elbow, you're going to have to start using the other restroom. Some variations of the myth had a certain ritual you had to perform to become the other sex, such as spinning around in a circle ten times under a full moon before giving the kiss that will turn a boy into a girl. Obviously, no matter how much ritual is involved, it doesn't work... or does it?
Hi. My name is Brian, or it was Brian. It’s now Brianna. And, this little story is of the changes that have occurred in my life.
When I was young, I was confused as to who I was. I was a boy, but liked to play and look like a girl. I use to wrap a towel around my waist and pretend it was a skirt. When we played house, I wanted to be the mother. And, I had an aunt who was gorgeous and I wanted to be just like her.
Submitted by Maeryn Lamonte on Thu, 2012/02/16 - 7:37pm
by Maeryn Lamonte
In a world where population, poverty and crime are spiralling out of control, the future looks bleak. Given the choice would you elect to live in the real world as it fell into chaos around you, or would you take the opportunity to live out the remainder of your life in a virtual paradise.
Of course there may be some additional benefits to taking the virtual option...
Submitted by Jill Micayla on Mon, 2012/02/13 - 2:33pm
I originally wrote this for storysite and decided to amend some errors. The original Story changed immensely and is told from a different point of view other than first person
Two boys discover they are more alike but never had let the other know. One boy is model of feminine attire the other boy just enjoys dressing as a girl and unsure of herself when she begins to find her friend very attractive.
Submitted by dorothycolleen on Fri, 2012/02/10 - 8:32am
“Steve Austin, astronaut, a man barely alive...”
You can blame my grandfather for the fact I know that line. Its from a TV show from the dark ages called “The Six Million Dollar Man.” He likes to tell me he worked on the show.
Over and over again.
Somehow, he ended up with a lot of memorabilia from it too. A whole pile of props, mostly examples of the “bionic” parts. He also has copies of all the scripts, and worst of all, copies of film he er... liberated from the set.
I giggled as I raised the spinning mower blade all the way up and put it into forward. In front of me the Gardener laid vainly trying to roll out of the way. He wouldn’t make it. Absolutely amazing the poisons found in ordinary household products.
Submitted by Hope Eternal Reigns on Sun, 2012/02/05 - 4:41pm
My story has a blurb and this is it. I believe that story blurbs should lure the reader into a false sense of urgency to read the story that follows. This urgency should be SO strong that NOT reading the following story becomes a total impossibility. So without further delay; I present the story you have all be WAITING for.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“You wanted to talk Robert. So, I’m here.”
“Am I doing the right thing?"
"That’s a simple question with a very complex answer. And I’m not sure I have the right answer.”
“That doesn’t matter, as much as you’re letting me talk about it.”
“Then, why don’t you know this is the right thing?"
"I... look, I’m your son. But... I should have been your daughter. I know it my heart and mind, I’m a woman. That, this way, I’m living a lie.”
She sat on the steps just upstream of the bridge. Two hours now, as the Ouse roiled and surged round the old stone and debris span in the eddies. Soon, perhaps, the flood markers in the pub downstream would need another notch, and the gardens to her right would be submerged. Winter rains, winter floods, who gave a shit, really? All part of a world she had tried to engage with, that had spurned every attempt she had made to join. The light was fading slowly on a miserably grey and washed out February afternoon, and as it went, so would she. There was only so much strength given to a person, she thought, and when that was gone, so were they.
Submitted by Andrea Lena DiMaggio on Sat, 2012/02/04 - 1:40pm
The glow of the laptop cast an eerie pall on Jeremy Armetta’s face. He peered at the screen and shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. Ironic that illumination gained such a painful meaning, but ultimately was to his benefit. He looked down at the book he had open in front of him next to his laptop and shrugged his shoulders. Whoever said that always being in the ‘right’ was a good thing didn’t know what they were talking about. He closed the book and shut the laptop before turning back toward the bed where his wife slept. What she had told him wasn’t the right thing to do as far as he knew but what she said to him still felt right…. ”Call our Son.”