The Prodigal

My name is George, something you may think was not unusual. When I tell you that my older brother is also called George, as is my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, you can guess that I come from a long and wealthy family.

-8-
Dunk the Maiden (Part 2)

I quickly found myself soaked to the bone. My once perfectly styled hair had become a tangle web of loose strands. I felt myself starting to shiver a little. The fire had almost gone out in me. The crowd in front of me was starting to ease up a bit and I was glad. I thought maybe I could catch a little break. But then Wyatt came up to me and started to whisper harshly toward me.

Why did Commander Jvuznart always make him do the worst jobs, like replacing xenobiological specimens? It wasn’t his fault that Doctor Gralpuxt’s specimens expired. They should have had a failsafe on the specimen holding environmental controls. It wasn’t like he killed them on purpose when he shut off the lights along with the atmosphere generator and temperature controls, was it? These new specimens from the 3rd planet were so soft and needed just the right temperature and gas mix to live. Sheesh, how did they survive to make it this far? They were even fouling their own nest; give them another few hundred cycles, if that long, and they wouldn’t even be around, he was sure.

Alienation
by Bryony Marsh

March 2023 story contest entry on the theme of abduction. After many years, an old friend arrives with a strange tale to tell. An engine that dies on a lonely stretch of road; a brilliant beam of light from above; being kidnapped and experimented upon by those of another species... with a transgender twist, of course!

Roadside Encounter
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

She was she, at least for the day. It was never more than a day, and usually a Sunday. She would go to bed as her and in the morning, she would face the week as a man, and just dream about next Sunday. But on that fine day she drove for an hour just to be her in public for 3 or 4 hours, and then was driving home, with a bright new dress and some other things on the passenger seat.

Haida awakens from her dreams to a nightmare.

The Font

The internet is a wonderful thing, a veritable Font of Knowledge. It can give you hope, it can give you grief, it can inform you and dis-inform you with equal ease. I was born after it became used world-wide, and I never knew a time without it. I also had to bear the name picked out for me, whether I was a boy or a girl, I would be called Nimbus. They had decided that I would be their halo of light, blended with a flying broomstick. They had read the Harry Potter books several times.

Joe’s Woman
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Joe surveyed his claim with some pride in the early evening light, the red earth of Western Australia made even more red by the final rays of the sun. The portable building they had lived in was still flattened on the slight rise facing Treasure Hill, but the screening plant and loader were now back to full operation after the dust storm of the previous month.

Some people announce the arrival of their powers to the whole town... by exploding into little pink bits that go everywhere!

-4-
An Interesting Proposal

Limoxian Lib

Playing Marbles for the Big Blue

01 Alban Invasion, Almost

By Jo Dora Webster

How will Rasctan make a name for himself on Alban Kai?

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.

Chapter Four

On the Monday we worked together song writing. As we worked it became even more of a collaboration. We thought as one, me now being able to write the music score. We went back to the ones we had written already for guitar and piano and wrote out the scores for the rest of the band. I could hear the tunes in my mind, played by the five of us.

Somi knew when he could no longer fulfil his duties he would be euthanised. His unguarded saw had bitten him thrice over the years, but not badly enough for him to have been euthanised. The last time had cost him a finger, but since he had carried on working nothing had been said by his supervisor and he’d been allowed to live.

When he came to the conclusion that something powerful was preventing him from seeing himself he lost heart and tried to stop dreaming. Yet the dreams kept coming during the day, especially the dreams of the young women. It was in despair that he realised sooner or later they would distract him from his work and would cost him a hand and that would be his end.

The Colonel’s Assistant
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

When he looked at the calendar on his desk, he noted that it was 300 days until he could elect full retirements benefits. He had been counting the days until May 14, 1972. He wrote “300” on the bottom of his new blotter, on his pristine new desk.

I took a deep breath as I peered out the car window. The sight that greeted me was nothing but flat, rolling fields that seemed to stretch far beyond the horizon. The Mississippi Delta was flat as a board. As I released my drawn in breath I shifted my eyes toward the woman seated beside me. Her name was Lavender Stoner and she was less than thrilled to have me along for the ride. I could say the same for her. Sitting next to her was like sitting next to a junkyard dog.

No one knew how it started. It just did. The nanites were probably designed to fight cancer or restart dying cells. They certainly did that. The upshot was that most of the world seemed to be infected by a real-life zombie plague.

Pinkmailed
A Requested Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

Okay, so listen up. Like, what’s the worst secret that you don’t want anybody to know? Like, a secret that you want to keep so badly that you will do anything to stop Mark and Gabe from telling everybody? I mean like, anything! Like, giving away everything that is important to you. Like becoming somebody else completely! Like, the opposite of the person you were. What kind of secret could that be?

Chapter 3

The meal was magnificent. If this was what being famous was all about, I would have to keep track of my weight. The waiters were attentive, and the wine was enough to take the edge off my worries about later. Joan told me that dessert would be after the show, to allow me to make space for it. We went out to the car, and I picked up the guitar case, then we went to freshen up.

-4-
The Wisdom of Bridgette, Apprentice Wisdom to the Village of Thorn

The common room of the inn was silent as the grave. Night had fallen and many of the rowdy patrons had retired to their beds. In a far corner of the room, Bridgette, Oliver and I gathered around a simple wooden table. At Bridgette's feet there laid a leather traveling knapsack. Her wooden staff lay probed up beside her. In front could be found the bones of a roasted chicken, picked clean. We all had the roasted chicken, it was okay. Could have used a little more salt and pepper but otherwise it was okay.

Suspicions
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I am a possessive person. I admit it. I thought that Lauren loved me, and I thought that I loved her. I just felt that we were meant to be together. I thought that our arguments and lack of sex were issues that we could address, but that our relationship would be lasting.

I have to admit that sex was an issue for me, and I never really understood why at the time. Now I realize what the problem was. It seems so stupid that I did not recognize my own nature. I must be the biggest self-deceiver on the planet.

This part has a forced sexual encounter. I know this type of story is not too popular here, but part 1 and 2 have had 3000 hits between them. So it is being read.

Bob came back an hour later reeking of beer. Carol fussed over him while I finished the steak dinner we were making for him. The smell made my mouth water. Carol and I were to just have a salad. Bob says we must keep our slim figures, she told me.

The Apron
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I don’t believe in magic, but it is hard to think of another explanation. I may not have been the manliest of males, but I was male. Now I am not so sure.

I was helping out in the kitchen as a guy should do, and as I was stirring the meat sauce, and as wearing a while shirt, somebody suggested that I put on an apron. That stuff stains.