A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 42 Adoption, Education and Death

After the first serious beating by forces unknown of the most vociferous bigot, an overweight fifteen year old who went by the nickname of Porky, behind the dining hall even the name calling diminished to almost nothing. The entire school knew the Bearthwaite kids had to have been responsible, but they were as closed mouthed about the matter as they always were about any incident that protected their own and as usual the school authorities were frustrated by finding out nothing, for Dean, Porky’s real name, had clearly been terrorised into silence and stuck to his story that he’d seen nobody. The rumour was that he’d been telt if he opened his mouth he’d be the next transgender victim of the gossip and he wouldn’t be needing GRS because it would already have been done for him, but none knew if that were true or just scuttlebutt.

Gary, a self-described adventurer, finds the lost temple of the Gorgons. In Africa! Now, how could that happen unless it was aliens!

My first ever entry to one of Bigcloset's contests.

The Next Day, Early Morning:
Falcon activated the tracker Scout managed to put on Buck’s vehicle. She followed Buck from the club to his house. She noticed Buck had taken one of the dancers with him, leading her by a gold leash attached to a gold collar around her neck. She hung back enough not to let him know she was following him.

She had taken Scout’s souped-up motorcycle. The thing used an electric motor and was extremely quiet. It also had several gadgets built into it. Where she was a huge A-Team fan. Scout was a huge Street Hawk fan from the 80s.

My name? How curious you are! You don't have long to live and instead of begging, fighting, or praying you ask me a question. I suppose I owe you that, at least. I so rarely get to tell my tale. You won't believe any of it, of course, but I swear on my baby daughter's memory that every word is true.

I remembered the night she threw me out. I had worn her sexiest underwear. She hadn’t worn it for years, so one of us may as well use it. I was half way through clipping my stockings to my suspenders when she came in. I thought she would be out seeing her friend until 10.30 at least.

“I bloody knew it, you little queer. You couldn’t leave it alone could you? Well, you can bugger off. I want a real man.”

[four months later]
It was a slow Wednesday morning when Ray and Jade came into the shop. She said her hello's to Sylvia, and me before leaving on an errand for Ray.

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 41 Bearthwaite Politics, Law, Lore and Reality

One of the pupils at Whiteport Academy was Fergus McCann. To others fourteen year old Fergus was the ultimate alpha male. A big strong and physically unstoppable boy who was the star of all the physical sport games he played for his school. It was a surprise to most when they discovered he was more interested in the creative stories he wrote for his English teacher than he was in his endeavours on the fields of sport. The boys thought he was a bit odd because he admitted to enjoying reading, and even writing, poetry, drawing and painting, but none made anything of it because Fergus was not someone whose ire they wished to court. Without doubt Fergus was a masculine male, and he had never considered being, nor had he ever wanted to be anything else. But his day dreams would have been considered by most of his peers to be in a word, pink, if that is any other than himself had been aware of them. He had absolutely no desire to be in any way feminine and like other typical males of his age from time to time he had sexual fantasies concerning his friend’s mothers and sisters, but naytheless he had a very different view as to what constituted masculinity from that of the males of his acquaintanceship and especially his father, Davy, who he did not get on with. His father would have liked him better if he’d been a male chauvinist bully, and better still if he’d been a chauvinist thug like himself, but his mother, Eunice, was delighted that Fergus was naturally polite, helpful and considerate, especially to girls, but his father unremittingly reviled him for being a sissy. The only reason it had not come to blows between them was that his father was like a lot of bullies a coward and was deep down afraid of Fergus who had for a number of years been bigger and stronger than his father.

When Robert’s wife’s body is stolen, Robert must discover where and who she is and get her body back. But can he succeed when Exmuritious Forrester, the CEO and owner of Transmigration Studios, decides to stop him? Who can Robert trust, when anyone could be anyone?

Moose looked uncomfortable. He knew – like I knew – that a week or two away wasn’t going to cure what was eating me up. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.

It wasn’t our way.

{Written as a parody and with due homage to a host of SF Authors, Films and TV}

The bedside comunicator beeped.
I slowly opened my eyes. I'd only had a few hours of sleep in the past two days.
The alarm bleeped once again.

Trevor looked in horror at the gaping vagina before him, the same one he had impotently obsessed over and fantasized about for so many years, he couldn’t help but think: where had everything gone so very wrong?

When Robert’s wife’s body is stolen, Robert must discover where and who she is and get her body back. But can he succeed when Exmuritious Forrester, the CEO and owner of Transmigration Studios, decides to stop him? Who can Robert trust, when anyone could be anyone?

When Robert’s wife’s body is stolen, Robert must discover where and who she is and get her body back. But can he succeed when Exmuritious Forrester, the CEO and owner of Transmigration Studios, decides to stop him? Who can Robert trust, when anyone could be anyone?

The Light Between (Part 4 of 8)

by Erisian

Book 5

Chapter 12 - Challenge

With the clock ticking just past six we exited the 101 freeway a few miles west of where we’d visited the DPA earlier. From there we went south instead, passing into an isolated area against the hills complete with several small lakes as well as quite a few golf courses all surrounded by enclaves of houses better classified as mansions.

Unsurprisingly we went past these to a road marked “Private” to reach a higher plateau and its own sprawling complex that overlooked everyone else around as if to say, “You think you’re wealthy? Think again.”

It wasn’t until we passed the transition from paved blacktop onto grey paver stones forming a wide circle around a central fountain that I realized I had an issue.

This dress had absolutely no pockets nor did I have a matching clutch or purse.

Dangit.

As a traveling bard, Narook had explored many lands and has seen countless wonderous things.
Little does he know that arriving at the Dragon's Hoard tavern would change all that.
While forced to settle down, his greatest journey is just about to begin.

Forged in Battle
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

“Sometimes I can’t believe that I put up with this bullshit,” said Bo, feeling as mad as all hell. “So, you saved my life. But that does not mean that you take advantage. Even a lifesaver can be a stubborn dickhead sometimes, deserving of a good tongue lashing.” Bo’s tongue shot out.

The Light Between (Part 3 of 8)

by Erisian

Book 5

Chapter 8 - Scans

The Los Angeles DPA headquarters and research labs, which were actually not in the city proper but out in Agoura off the 101 freeway, hadn’t changed much since I was last there - at least from the outside. It still had the three stories worth of dark reflective windows sticking out of the hill into which the complex was embedded and also the massive open parking lot of the kind only found in the suburbs.

While Haruko had indeed arranged for a car and driver (a limo no less!), I’d borrowed a phone to ask her to have them start the slog over the hill and meet me here at the agency. Despite being in the middle of studying for finals Kurohoshi’s daughter had already heard about the attempt on Isaiah’s life and promised to pass on the instruction to the driver. She also gave me his number so I could reach him direct if anything else changed.

Before she hung up she reminded me that I was on the clock to be ready for the evening - all while still not giving any details of what was going on.

Naturally.

[Late October 2017]
“Good morning Ray. Shall I prepare your usual?” I said to the latest customer who had ventured into my coffee shop that morning. It was blowing a bit of a hoolie out there. A strong south-westerly wind that was predicted to become a full-on gale before midday was dragging rain squalls along with it. Not a nice day to be out and about.

The Light Between (Part 2 of 8)

by Erisian

Book 5

Chapter 5 - Exams

“Shit!”

First things first. Feed the starving and pathetically meowing kitty: open can, scoop into bowl, give reassuring pets.

Skip shower, curse the hair for being short again and not fitting in a scrunchie all while struggling with a hairbrush to tame strands of wild fire.

Give up. Clothes next.

Strip off pajamas (were they lavender when I went to bed?), grab the folded martial arts uniform from the top of the clean laundry pile. Hop into the leggings, pull on a hopefully-clean sports bra, wrap the top of the gi around the torso before fiddling with the strings that hold it in place, slap the equally white belt around the waist and take three attempts to get the proper knot.

Good enough. Prep complete.

With one last (okay, a few last) scritches to the kitty I ran out the door before bounding down the stairs because the elevator always took forever. Sprinting across the wet and frost-covered campus lawn I realized I hadn’t put on any shoes.

Oops. Oh well.

Seeking Redemption
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

People do not understand rape. Nobody wants to talk to a rapist about why they do it, unless it is to judge them. A rapist cannot even go to a shrink. They say: “If this is in the past then we may be able to discuss it while respecting confidentiality, but if you are contemplating future offending, then I must report any impending crime.” Contemplating? It those days it was all I could think about. But what do you do?

Note: this a written continuation of a comic I commissioned.

Page 1: https://www.deviantart.com/thet0wer/art/thet0wer-Comic-01-92...
Page 2: https://www.deviantart.com/thet0wer/art/thet0wer-Comic-02-92...
Page 3: https://www.deviantart.com/thet0wer/art/thet0wer-Comic-03-2-...