Short-short < 500 words

The Living VS The Dead

The Living VS. The Dead
 
By: Sandy Riedel
 

I grabbed Lisa’s hand and pulled her into the mansion, gasping for air, and slammed the door behind us. I looked back at her; a mixture of pool water and sweat dripped down her face. She was shivering and I wasn’t sure if it was from being cold or from being scared.

Differently Dressed

I'm confused. Well, more than I usually am, and that's a bad sign. I need Identity, I need a Label to pin my hopes and dreams to. I thought I was a Transvestite, but lately I have found out that is too clinical a word and I shouldn't use it. So I tried being a TV but the rabbit ears kept falling off my head and the satellite dish was just unbearable.

The Crossdresser's Placement Agency

With apologies to those of you who weren't around to listen to radio in the sixties, I'll start this with a famous quote. In the immortal words of the Chicken Man: "They're everywhere, they're everywhere". Crossdressers, that is. In the last week everywhere I look I see a crossdresser, right out there in public.

The Control Group

I have been indulging in a solitary vice again, but don't worry - I mean reading, not what you thought. While perusing the Skeptical Inquirer I came across a review of an odd little tome of pseudoscience called Dressed to Kill: The Link Between Breast Cancer and Bras. Now really, what would your average brassiere obsessed crossdresser do but immediately sign on to the library computer and get a copy delivered to the local library to find out what's going on here. You didn't think I would pay for the thing, did you?

Catty

Good Grief, can it really be? Charlie Brown and Snoopy have just turned 40. I mean, it was a shock when I recently turned 40, but how can Snoopy be 40? Even if you count in dog years it seems incredible. I mention this because I have had an image of Snoopy in my mind lately. The image is the one where old Snoops is clinging to the roof of half a doghouse, the lower half having been swiped away in one snarling swat by the cat next door.

Cleaning

I what to know who makes up the rules, and when I find her I want her to change them, now! It may come as a shock to you, but life just ain't fair. With my new job I am living in a two room apartment all by myself on weekdays. My wife is in school two hours away from my apartment, which is two hours away from our (supposedly permanent) home, and we navigate from node to node on this triangular route each weekend. I thought life was supposed to get more stable when you hit your forties!

The Bra Museum

I hate Philadelphia. Well, maybe that's a bit too harsh. I hated living in Philadelphia. I took a job that made me move to Philadelphia once and lasted precisely one and a half weeks before I ran screaming back to my rural home and continued unemployment. But perhaps I was a bit hasty, for now it seems the enlightened curators of the Museum of Art there have declared my favorite fetish to be a legitimate subject of cultural study.

1-900-HOT-HOTT

I'm sure that you have seen an ad or two (or twenty) for one of those 900 phone services. They usually have neat names like 1-900-HOT-HOTT, which is a real number that a teenage neighbor called twice on my garage phone before I caught him. I never could understand why someone would pay $25 for the first four minutes of talk when for a smaller monetary investment you could go to a bar somewhere and buy some floozy a few drinks and get the talk live, or possibly something more if you have a golden tongue.

When You "Lose" Someone

When You “Lose” Someone
By: Jayde

How should you respond when you “lose” someone in your family? Should you stop talking to them and just don’t acknowledge their existence, well that’s what I did now I just feel like an utter dickhead.

To be a girl

“BOOM!” Goes the snub nose revolver I test fired making my ears ring. The smell of gunpowder permutated from the gun. I never shot a revolver before, but this is the first and last day I fire one. My body was jittering as I pull back the hammer of the revolver.

I walk into my garage. I was dark and warm. A nice place to end it all. I sit down in a chair and put the revolver in my mouth. I slide my thumb in the trigger guard. I close my eyes and slowly squeeze the trigger.

Everybody Struggles

Everybody struggles with life, even at the simplest times. My life just got flipped on its head, I had the choice to flip it or not, so I didn’t lose a family member or something like that… Well, I wish everyone in my family saw it like me.

Angel of the Battlefield

A white-haired girl walks down the middle of the shadow of death. There is nothing in the barren wasteland besides craters and tree stumps. The wind kicks up the dirt and grime.The girl is not fazed by the flying layer of dust. Not a speck of the filth touches her beautiful fair skin and none penetrates her glowing blue eyes. She abruptly starts sprinting to the top of a hill and lays down. She unslings her rifle and aims at a black-haired, red-eyed man.

Faded (Rough draft... well more of an idea of sorts... and yes, it's not a transgender story)

I made this story back when I was a wee boy in about, I think, sophomore year of high school. The reason why this story was never finished is that I ended up finding out that I am a girl, not a guy. So, queue the dysphoria and severe levels of depression. I'm interested if anyone wants me to reinvent the story to make it more interesting. Somehow I still have the ideas and plans for this story. By the way, this story is not done and the original will probably never be created.

Why did I do this?

Why did I do that?


I ran towards the house , they were after me I don't know who they are and don't ask me questions in between everything will be answered. So yeah where was I? " Something about they chasing you" Oh yes. They were chasing me , I saw a house to the left I just started slamming the door as loud as I could.An old women came out.She was my grandmother.She asked me why are you in a hurry? I told her " they are chasing me ".She told me to get inside.

Disappointment- A Solo Story

I was in the kitchen preparing dinner for my family when my three children came home from a day with their friends. My daughter had a huge smile on her face while my two sons were shocked to see me. As soon as they saw my look they ran off scared, knowing that I was going to have a long talk with both of them over what they were wearing.

I shook my head at my daughter who acted casual. She didn't make any reference to her brothers wearing dresses nor did she seem to care. I shook my head in disappointment, she was a sneaky little devil and knew I'd have this reaction.

Doctor's Log 3 "The dark huggle"

Doctor’s log 3: “The anti-huggle”

Excerpt from the personal logs of Doctor Dorothy “Dottie” Bellion

Stardate: Classified.

I belong to the best crew in Starfleet.

I knew that, but in case I needed to be reminded, they proved themselves again.

It all started with why I invented the huggle generator in the first place. See, I suffered some ... traumatic experiences young, and one of the few things that helped me process that was the unwavering support of our family dog.

The End

Hello everyone,

I'm new as an author on here. This is a rather personal story/ poem, but it fits into the TG context.

I'm working on an actual series, but as a slow writer it will take some time for that.

I still hope you can enjoy reading this here.

Best wishes,

Filas

Just make her happy

“Come in and sit down Francine,” I said to the girl.

She came in and sat down.

“Now Francine, this is the third time Ms Hoare has sent you to me this term. You do know why you are here don’t you?”

Francine sighed.

“Yes Headmaster. Ms Hoare thinks that I'm wearing too much makeup.”

Visitor from my dreams

Visitor from my dreams

Author's note: I read a writer's prompt on facebook, and it went something like "She came to me in my dreams, and in my nightmares", and my muse took it from there ...

At first, i thought she was a nightmare, the girl in my dreams.

For I was a boy, or supposed to be. So where could this girl I dreamed of being come from?

Then there were the nightmares in truth, but she was not the monster in them, but rather a victim - a prisoner, tormented and captive.

Relaxation

Relaxation

Like a lot of other guys, my work is something I endure so I have the money to enjoy my weekends, when I can relax.

Although, the way I “relax” is a little different than most guys ...

See, once I get home on Friday afternoon until I have to get ready for work on Monday, I spend the whole time in women’s clothes.

I dont think its a fetish, at least not exactly, because for the most part, I dont get turned on by dressing up.

What I mostly feel is ... at peace.

Free.

Masquerade

It was the evening before the Halloween weekend.

Children were trickling into the big hall for Rutherford B. Hayes Middle School’s traditional fancy dress ball. There were male and female pirates, princesses with reluctant princes, cowboys and cowgirls, ballerinas (one with a VERY reluctant and embarrassed partner), zombies, ghosts … all hoping to win the prestigious price for the best disguise.

A gypsy girl

Just a bit of story telling from me for tonight on looking for a home, the road less travelled and being true to one's self

The gypsy girl

She is looking out of the window at the sunset as she's siting on the bed in a room in a house but her mind is elsewhere - the memorys of her life spent on the road less travelled in her thoughts tonight -

Something In The Way

A/N: This isn't a story that goes anywhere. It's a semi-autobiographical snapshot that I needed to put outside of myself, but read and enjoy if you're into something dark.

****

Amber wasn’t an orphan, but she didn’t imagine it being much different to her own life. ‘Family’ was something other people had, while she kept to her own company.

Her father and brother were there, at least in body, with eyes glued to the tee-vee set. Truth be told they cared more about wrestling than they did the eldest daughter, and told her so whenever they deemed her worthy of notice.

Shadowsblade: Exchange

Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade
Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and
without.

In this one!

We go off the rails!

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

There I was getting home from a long day at work again, once I opened the door going from the garage to my house. I heard the very distinct sound of food already cooking on the stove!

April Fool's!

I was walking towards the bookstore where we hosted our usual Saturday evening D & D game. It was a beautiful spring day--April first, to be precise, and I was once again acting in my role of Dungeon Master. I had just rounded the corner to the shopping plaza when a strange imp pulled on my sleeve, dragging me into a tiny curio shop in the corner.

Beastly Beauty

OK I said I'd look silly stealing a twisted idea proposed by Daphne Xu in a comment to a recent blog. With her permission I did it anyway. Of course I added an extra twist of my own.

Belle leaned forward to kiss the ”Beast”. He raised a paw and gently stopped her. In his strong and yet soft manly voice he said:

”I have to warn you. When I was cursed ten years ago the witch told me I had to find love in my heart and be loved back before my 21th birthday, which is tomorrow, otherwise I would stay a beast. A beast I truly was then. The witch made me look like I was inside, in every way. If I found love I would revert to my previous physical form. It may not be what you expect”

Amie and Jamie - Chapter 22 - Final Thoughts

Summer vacation ended. Our senior year began with both Amie and I needing very few credits for

graduation. This gave us time for career research with a lot of free time also. We had both decided on

our majors. Amie would study law, I was going into medicine. Now that I had decided on a direction, I

was anxious to get started. I had heard horror stories about the hours required of interns, but had my

mind made up that nothing would deter me from the path I had chosen.

Yes, Mr President

There are an awful lot of decisions to make when you're an incoming president.

Author's Note: This is a light-hearted work of fiction and bears no relation to what really goes on in the White House – I think!
Copyright© Lin Dale 2017

The necklace

The necklace

The young woman looks down to the heart shape necklace in her hand with tears running down her face... on the night of Christmas eve -such a simple thing so small yet has such meaning to the young women - the story that the necklace tells is of the love between a mother and her daughter... And of acceptance and support...

A life spent searching for some thing

The young woman looks out the door of her home - it's the door of a small 2 man tent - just big enough for her and her gear - she has no house or a fixed home - all ways traveling - never spending long in one place - as she keeps looking for something - what is it she's looking for?   - only when /if see finds it will she know -  the road calls to her -  in a soft yet strong voice - calling like a mare to her foal

Cat on the lap

Another very short story that just popped in my head. It doesn't really have a plot and the morale is pretty thin, and there's no explanation as to why it could happen. Just don't bother someone when they're busy unless it's actually important.

Caution: some slight descriptiveness of genitalia. Story rating is for safety but otherwise ok.

A Moment at the Mirror

A Moment at the Mirror

The young man looked in the mirror and sighed.

He had hoped to see a girl there, but instead he saw a sad boy in his mother’s clothes.

He’d been dressing up whenever he had the chance for a while now, and he still didn’t understand why. What was it about women’s clothes, a woman’s life that attracted him so?

The fact that he didn’t know the answer to that embarrassed him, frustrated him and drained him.

Returning Home for Christmas

I was amazed. The house looked exactly like it had done twenty years ago. Now when I finally had got this far I suddenly hesitated. Was I really prepared to meet my father? Could we put all everything behind us and start anew? Could all the prejudice be overcome?

Jaci-Stien: A Jaci and Dottie Story

Jaci-Stien: A Jaci and Dottie Story

“Ha ha ha! I’ve created the ultimate man! Now, to activate ... Computer! Activate manly man program.”

“Beep. Error, program corrupted.”

“What? Computer, activate manly man program!”

Beep. Error, program corrupted.”

“Computer, perform diagnostics on program.”

“Beep. Program has been corrupted by virus designated ‘girly germs’. Virus was most likely delivered via delivery system designated ‘huggles.’ Beep.”

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