The minute I reached the office, the office secretary, greeted with a small smile. She was an older woman, her iron-gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Her outfit, a white button down blouse, tucked into the waistline of a black skirt was free of wrinkles and dust. White stockings and black dress shoes rounded out the outfit. And as she stood upon the old wooden desk, her hands folded upon the clean, highly polished surface. She fixed me with a look.

Johannes Malt Shop was a Benton mainstay, located on a few doors down from “Ginger Evens Bakery” and only a quarter mile from the towns only supermarket in town “Sunflower: Food store” it the main hang out for the tweens and teens all year round. And to honesty, really everybody stopped here to get a quick snack. There hamburgers, where to die for, and their milkshakes were the best around. Thick and creamy.

Thanksgiving follows Halloween. While Halloween is all about the spooks, Thanksgiving is more about family and sharing the fruits of the earth. It was also the time of year people start playing Christmas music and every shop puts up a tiny Christmas village in there display windows. And considering that was in the south, I think the fake flakes of snow that piled high on the display tables, is the closest thing we’ll ever see to a “White Christmas”.

Back in 2017, there was an event that came to be known as, Spontaneous Body Swapping Syndrome. Thought of in the past as a disturbance in the flow of nature, or a scientific experiment gone wrong on the genetic level, it is in fact a magical curse inflicted on one member of each family. Each of the opposite gender. In the future SBSS has become something of a regular event. So regular in fact that it is found to be linked to birth. Scientists and Mages have found that when two people are born at the same exact time, their bodies are linked together. When either person reaches a certain event in their life, the cycle begins. The duration of the event depends on the strength (or weakness) of the connection.
this is the origin story i have been cooking up since i started writing. Hope you enjoy ^-^

The bleachers on both sides of the field where filled to the brim with people. The whole school had turned out, with dozens of people waving small flags that had the school’s mascot on them. The cheerleaders where busy whipping the crowds into a frizzy. And thereby the side, My eyes firmly fixed upon the strawberry blonde girl being lead to our side of the field by three Manchester cheerleaders. Lily, Joan, and Mindy were there. The three talked with the other three and finally, Joan escorted the girl from Manchester over to a waiting table where our homecoming court sat.

I only had to wait a few seconds before the sharp sting to the paddle cracking across my backside flooded into my bottom. The first stroke of the paddle took my breath away and caused the tiny hairs on my arms to stand straight up. Coughing, I crooked out.

“One Ma’am,” I said as took a deep breath and waited for the next one. I did not need to wait long for the second one either for soon the paddle cracked my bottom again. Sending another wave of sting rolling into my bottom. The second strike once again took my breath away, but I forced myself to count again. “Two ma’am.”

Hi everyone, Debbie V here. As you may or may not know, Kris and I were very good friends, and we’d often share snippets of chapters for each other to look over, or sometimes just for fun. These snippets below are some of those that I felt deserved to be shared with the audience that loved her work so much. These are all her own words- I haven’t altered or added anything beyond a quick spellcheck. The stories are presented in rough chronological order and as such may overlap with previous ‘continuing adventures’.

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With daddies money in hand. Mom, Lily and I headed to Johannes Malt Shop, Benton favorite and only mom and pop burger joint. Once we walked through the door, the smell of beef patties being grilled on a open flame hit us like a ton of bricks. Once we were inside, mom guided Lily and I toward a table. Once we were seated a women around Lily age appeared. She had honey blonde hair and deep blue eyes. She smiled toward each of us and placed a small paper menu down upon the table.

Lily did my hair and makeup. She wanted to do more, but the chime of the front door filled the air. Mom and dad were home early it seemed. Lily blinked and stood me up, and took me by the hand and guided me down the hallway and then down the stairwell and finally we reached the foyer. And there in the doorway stood mom and dad, see mom and dad worked together, my family was.. I guess you would call us bourgeoisie. We owned and operated a store in downtown Benton ‘Potter Mercantile’. It was among the oldest businesses in operation. And my sister and I attend Benton Academy.

That afternoon, as I peered toward the glowing computer screen of my laptop. Wrecking my brain for ideas and lead ins for the rp post I was working on. I noticed the door of my bedroom open and there in the doorway stood my older sister. She had changed out of her school uniform and into something more casual. A pair of jeans and short sleeve shirt that had the logo of a popular girls band written across it. She stood there, eyeing me for a minute before she moved into my bedroom.

The nave of St. Mary’s Episcopal Church was half full I’ll say with around sixty people sitting spread out in the wooden pews. Small puffs of gray smoke hung above our heads and the air was scented with the smell of burning charcoal and incense pellets. The flicking orange and yellow light of the twelve burning candles divided into two groups of six. Six to the left and six to the right of the high altar.

Saturday came soon enough. A hazy mist hung over the whole town, the air was hot and humid. Stepping outside felt like one was stepping into a steam bath. The sickly sweet smell of magnolia blooms and blooming flowers scented the air. Across the street Ginger’s Bakery was putting out some fresh donuts in the display window. A few people were milling about the front of the local Post Office and finally a lone bagboy was gathering up some stray shopping carts in front of the Local Sunflower.

I was halfway through my hot chocolate when the door to the my room swung open. There in the doorway stood my older sister. Now, Kayla was a full fourteen years older than me. Growing up, I rarely saw much of her, save those rare visits around the holidays. So, around three times a year if I was luck, those three times of course being Easter, Thanksgiving and finally Christmas.

Pale moonlight streamed through the window and bathed the floor of my hospital room. Through the haze of the painkillers dripping down into me, I thought the full moon reminded me of a ghostly ship, cut adrift in a sea of darkness. My name is Mark Brewer, I just turned fourteen. Two weeks ago, I was in a horrible car crash that killed my mother and has left me a ward of the state. I’m told by a case worker that my older sister.. Kayla Brewer, who lives in Benton and owns and a operates a Christmas Tree Farm has agreed to take me in. Okay I lied a little.

Adam was tired all of the time. Everyday, nonstop. No matter when he went to sleep, he always felt like he had gotten none. The only thing that even remotely helped him was coffee.

One day, he woke up to find that he had forgotten to set the coffee maker to brew last night. Disgruntled, he headed over to to the cupboard to get the bag of beans. He grabbed it, and opened the bag. He groaned as he saw it was empty.

Lately I had actually enjoyed going to school. It had started when a group of documentary filmers had chosen our school to do a documentary about every-day high school life. This would be their fifth week here. The first week everyone tried to get their attention. They strongly discouraged that. Their goal was to be as unnoticeable as possible. Blending in into the background while filming with their carefully disguised cameras, as well as some fixed cameras. By the fourth week they had succeeded quite well. The students didn’t take more notice of them than they did of the poster for the Chess club’s next game in the state championships. Quite a pity, I had spent quite a lot of time making that poster.

So given that the film team wasn’t interested in any drama queens why did my best friend Phil come to school dressed as a girl?