In the evening, Steve was sitting in bed and I brought him soup and sandwiches and we talked about the movie we’d watched and how much he’d enjoyed it, too. I kissed him on the forehead again and went down to the restaurant. One of our reservations hadn’t shown up but two walk-in couples were a bonus and I watched over my sad little empire and wondered how I was going to keep it all together.

The Beneficiary, by Karin Bishop

Selected entries from the Journal of Donna Everton

Part 4

CHAPTER 23
The train rattled and shook its way down the Arun Valley, Arundel castle looming to the right, and I started looking for the Hawker Hunter jet fighter still on its plinth at what had been Ford airfield. It was almost a milk train, stopping at nearly every station on the line, passing three castles, two cathedrals and any number of harbours.

“I had a talk with her yesterday morning. She actually opened up to me and I felt you needed to know about it.” Shelly came out and handed a can of soda to her. Persephone opened it up and took a quick sip. “She's had so much fun the past few days, she's dreading having to be Troy for Christmas.”

“Maggie? Could I offer a suggestion?” Persephone asked as she leaned back in the couch.

Thanks to Djkauf for the Editing

Last part of Livermore for a while. But not the end of Tracy and her friends

Note: Rating gone up slightly due to a little issue brought in at the end

It seems that my small drabble has struck a strong nerve. I hope not to hurt anyone's feelings as it's was something to do on a quiet night at 3:00 in the morning and as some wanted to know a bit about me, here it is in a condensed form. Yes the copyright thing still stands as this is my work yada yada post anywhere as long as it's free.

Daughter to Demons

by Jeffrey M. Mahr and Levanah

We have made thee neither of heaven nor of earth, neither mortal nor immortal, so that with freedom of choice and with honor, as through the maker and molder of thyself, thou mayest fashion thyself in whatever shape thou shalt prefer. Thou shalt have the power to degenerate into the lower forms of life, which are brutish. Thou shalt have the power, out of thy soul’s judgment, to be reborn into the highest forms, which are divine.

— Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Oration on the Dignity of Man (1486)

 

And so Adam, in that his speech to Eve
uttered his faith in the promise made to her
of her seed, so in that respect Adam himself
came in under her covenant.
— Thomas Goodwin

Rosetta: A MORFS Universe Story By Joreymay

A little girl collapses, near death. Spies, kidnappers, and assassins pop up in unexpected places. A morf hostile teacher gets Rose in trouble. On the up side, holiday preparations and a favorite relative comes to visit.

Part 2

The Old Argument

It looked like the ‘girl meds’ were kicking in. I could see the gentle swell of a breast when he was sleeping. It could be the healing process, or the enforced indoor time, but his skin is marvelously smooth and clear–where it’s not scarred and healing, of course.
But the big change has been Steven’s demeanor. He hasn’t snapped or been surly for days and days. It was like the best day that he had, and the next one and the next one are just like the best day. He’s not high or giddy; he’s just not a jerk–and believe me; that’s a big difference!

The Beneficiary, by Karin Bishop

Selected entries from the Journal of Donna Everton

Part 2

CHAPTER 22
I was on my own that evening, waiting for the phone to ring, but there was nothing. No Larinda, no checking up, and certainly no second thoughts. I logged onto the internet, and before I could stop myself the latest offers from Dorothy Perkins were on the screen.

Shaboom

by shalimar

As the Evil Witch, shalimar turns Giggles into his daughter. She then turns him into mom, and the fun begins. Based on Hyperboard messages around March 2001, and on a suggestion by Sigh.
New roles for the SRU Wizard and Bikini Beach's Anya.

Copyright 2001, revised 2011.

Dainéal’s Dream

Bi-se i mo shuil
(Be my light)

I reached through the doorway and took the tray of food from Mrs. Doyle, who stood uncertainly for a moment. Then my aunt leaned forward and the two women hugged; Mrs. Doyle started to cry a little and it seemed like my aunt was comforting her. Then I realized my aunt was sobbing silently; I could tell by her shoulders. I put the food down and got things ready, set the table, and so on, thinking again about the power of women to help each other.

The Cabin - Part 12 — Conclusion

Chapter 32: Going Home

A beginning again.
It's like all stories, you see new horizons as they develop.
Also short again. Have too much to do suddenly.
Which is weird :)

A Bedtime story

“Tell me again about Mama, Daddy.”

The first time my son had asked me that question, I hesitated to respond. I thought “What good could come of reliving our grief?”

But then I recalled how the grief and loss I felt when my dad died had been multiplied by the fact that everyone refused to talk about him, as if he had never existed. So I put aside my own grief, and shared with my son, and now it was a nightly ritual.

“Bobby, are you sure you want to hear this again? Its a sad story, remember.”

It's not every day you have to prove your self to the other guys... It's even harder, when you're the runt. But, there were times, at the home, where the older boys got it in their heads that some of us had to do something to prove, yet again, that we deserved to hang around with them. Sighing, I knew that today was one of those days and they'd set an awful task. It was even worse than when we'd had to cross the junk yard and not get caught by the dog.

CHAPTER 21
I lay in bed afterwards, wondering how I was going to find any more energy, ever again. Larinda was in her usual position, which involved curling up with an arm across my chest and her head on my shoulder.