The Verdict of the Phoenix

Thanks to Maggie, for giving me permission to include the Spectre. And thanks for Lilith for editing, and for letting me play in the Ret-Con sandbox. But especially thanks to those who read my stuff and keep encouraging me to write anyway.

"God! You're going to be just as cute as can be!"

"But I don't want to wear a dress!"

"Yes dear, I know that, but we both know that you don't have a choice, right? Not after you foolishly said that anyone could do it! I still don't know what came over you, but it's too late for that now, so just stand still and let me help you get ready. We don't want anyone to know that you're a boy do we?"

"Not hardly!"

"Well, lets get started then."

Only the Lonely….

It was the song that was playing on the radio when she woke up in the morning and already saw the start of another hot day. That became a promise as she slipped out of the sheet she had draped over herself last night and had tried to curl up to another night alone.

Summer Sun and a few sweet chords.

It actually wasn’t Summer time or anything close to it. It was late fall actually and she was tired…just so tired from everything that happened in her life. She was in her late forties now and while her life hadn’t exactly been a train wreck it hurt.

Sailing
by
Janet L. Stickney
[email protected]

"Dear lord help me, I beg you!" Chris had felt terrible about not beeing able to resist to his fantasies any longer. He had dreamed about beeing a woman again and in his sleep he had jerked of. He was all ashamed and desperate.
Six months! SIX MONTH he had managed to avoid thinking about sexual things completely! And now that...

He tried eagerly but he seemed unable to get the images of that dream out of his head.

To an audience, the conductor's technique & art are the most mysterious of all the orchestra. Whether it be a world-class philharmonic orchestra, or a youth orchestra of yet-blossoming talent, only a small part of the conductor's work is visible on-stage, glimpses seen perhaps now, as a wave of the hand or baton & maybe then, as a wild dance atop the podium. And the conductor must always perform turned away from the audience, appearing to the outside world as if his or her face were hidden behind a mask…

My Daughter, Myself

By Heather St. Claire

Prologue: The Proposal

It’s a gorgeous late spring day in the Pacific Northwest. A young couple is enjoying a picnic lunch together under a shade tree at a city park. They’ve spread out a blanket underneath a shade tree and have brought with them a basket full of sandwiches, fresh fruit, cold soda, and assorted other goodies.

The Katrina story arc comes to an exciting close!

Seeing the unmistakable outline of my best friend’s rear end at the at the baggage claim, I couldn’t hold back my excitement any longer.

MARISA! I screamed. She turned around and looked, embarrassed, then smiled. KAT! We ran to each other and hugged. I was crying, so relieved that she was finally here. She was crying too, and we were both so excited to see each other. We were making a total scene, and we didn’t care. The only person in the world to me right then was my friend.

 
Moon Harper - Part 3
 
by Armond
 
 
I am now Shauna Deirbhile, and with my harp á€ine, I work miracles with my music. I'm dealing with a lot, hey? Mere days ago I was clueless Sean Derhill. Turning into a teenage girl has become the least of my worries, for I cannot explain the magic that flows from my harp strings, and it frightens me. The issue may be moot; the Fomors have marshalled all their resources to stop me from working a ritual that will switch me back. They want me dead dead dead.
 

KOLCHAK: THE NYLON STALKER.
(Based upon characters created by Jeff Rice. )
By Way Zim.

NOT TO PRAISE BUT TO BURY HIM.

KOLCHAK: THE NYLON STALKER.
(Based upon characters created by Jeff Rice. )
By Way Zim.

June 18th, 2005.
Cleveland, Ohio.

"The boys are back in town! ..." The stereo was set on max-level, as our car roared down the road. Free path. That would be cause it was saturday and most far out of town, so we had the street nearly to ourselves. And my buddy Mike welcomed tjis as a chance to drive his new car up to full throttle. "Yeah, dudes! This is the shit!" he yelled over to us against the loud music.

The Necessity of Winter

by Armond
 

The storm to the South West was rapidly gathering but there looked to be time to reset the power pull on the pole and then I could go home. The sky had gone all amber, the humidity was oppressive. The distant thunder sounded like the neighbor dragging his garbage can down the street. The approaching tempest looked like it could hatch a Tornado. I began to wonder if I should bother getting the power back up again.