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Tales told - a.k.a free reads > Februray 2014 F/F picture - STORIES

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message 1: by Kaje (last edited May 25, 2014 04:57PM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16566 comments Here's the winner for the two girls, or as the nominator said, maybe trans...

What does this picture inspire for you. Haiku? Sonnet? Short story? Novel? Post your writing here.

Stories: Julia

message 2: by Wren (new)

Wren  (wrenreaders) sweetheart, come here
let me whisper in your ear
how much i love you so......

with long, silky braids of hair
and skin so smooth, so very fair
i could kiss you all day, every day....

when you kiss me, everything is good
everything seems the way that it should
even better, filled with bliss.....

when you hold me in your arms
in my mind, i see stars,
and that is where i want to be.....

message 3: by Kaje (last edited Feb 08, 2014 03:23PM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16566 comments lovely, thank you :)

I could hear this as song lyrics, perhaps.

message 4: by Kaje (last edited Feb 25, 2014 11:23AM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16566 comments Re-vision

“Don't look at the camera,” the photographer says. “Be spontaneous. Be playful.”

I want to tell him to shove his spontaneous, playful camera where the sun don't shine. I haven't done anything without thinking it through carefully in years. But Mrs. Davidson is counting on us to get good publicity shots for the play. So I tug my braids forward over my shoulders, push my cami strap a little higher (because there are some kinds of spontaneous he probably doesn't want) and try to smile.

Beside me, Dono says through smilingly-clenched teeth, “You look more seasick than happy.”

“Speak for yourself,” I whisper back. Zhe drives me crazy. Yeah, I said, zhe. Dono takes our little rainbow family out to its bitter edge. Zhe is what zhe calls gender-fluid, and wants everyone to know it. Zher physical gender remains a mystery that zhe passes off as irrelevant, with a toss of zher head or a punch to the speaker's arm, depending where zhe happens to be on the sliding scale that day.

You'd think someone like me would be sympathetic, right? I know how hard it is to be born in the wrong body. But Dono doesn't spend hours messing with hair and makeup and padding, standing in front of a mirror trying to look right and never quite there. Nope. Zhe looks in zher closet, says, “I feel masculine today,” grabs a pair of khakis, and away zhe goes. Head high and looking great, as a guy, girl, whatever.

And then Zhe teases the hell out of me and everyone else in the theater group. Like right now. “Your hair is getting a bit scraggly,” zhe mutters out of the corner of zher mouth. “I can give you the name of a good stylist.”

“Not interested,” I mutter back. I grew it this long and braided it for the play, but it turns out to be the most feminine style I could come up with. No one calls me a boy with my hair like this. It's the best I've managed yet.

“That bit hanging by your eyes. It hides your gorgeous baby-blues.”

“My what?” I whirl around to stare at zher.

The photographer clicks away. “Not bad, but maybe a happier playful?”

Dono waggles zher eyebrows at me. “Made you look.”

“You jerk.” I can't help a little flush though. No one ever called my eyes gorgeous before.

“Seriously.” Zhe reaches out and brushes a strand of my hair off my face. I let zher do it, mesmerized by something intense in zher eyes. “Can't have my friend going around looking like Raggedy Ann.”

I choke, caught between my friend and the rag doll comment. Dono slides zher hand to my cheek, then down my arm. “You always look so good, so put together. And then the hair gets a little wild. It's like this crazy bit inside of you waiting to be let out.”

You're calling me crazy?”

That came out wrong, because the light in zher hazel eyes fades and zhe takes zher hand off me. My skin feels cool at the loss, despite the warm day and the hot lights. I say quickly, “Because none of us on this banana boat have any real claim to sanity. Or we wouldn't be doing the rainbow version of Pippi Longstocking as a musical. Right?”

Zhe laughs, and I feel relief course through me.

Dono says, “Right. So, publicity pictures? And then, maybe we could go get a soda?”

I smile back. “Sure. We'll need one.”

The photographer frowns. “Look boys and girls, girl, whatever. Could you flirt on your own time? This is a PG show, right.”

Dono gives him a cold glance. “Yeah, it is. You want silly?” Zhe turns to me and starts singing. It's a tune from the show but words that are just filthy bad, I mean, I'm blushing hard. But I can't help laughing too. Dono slides an arm around me, and tilts zher head my way. And then tickles my ribs through the cami. I squirm and elbow zher in the ribs and we tussle.

The photographer takes a bunch of pictures, then says, “Okay. I should have something useable in there. You can go now.”

Dono says, “Not yet.” Zhe hugs me around the hips, hard enough that I'm off balance and have to grab zher to stay upright. And zhe kisses me, soft and sweet, on my cheek. Zher arms are strong, holding me upright, and zher lips are like velvet on my skin.

The zhe sets me stright on my feet and steps back. And punches me on the arm. “Now we're done. And you're buying, girl.”

I think I've been standing here for five minutes, while zhe just watches with a little smile on zher lips. I'm waiting to feel the ground beneath my feet, before I move again.


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