500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Makeup Fairy

Disclaimer: This is fiction. All the characters and events portrayed here are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely accidental and unintentional. I as the author reserves all rights. A big thanks goes out to Cathy who proofed and generally made this readable. Any remaining errors, or mistakes are mine! Enjoy

The Makeup Fairy

By
Grover

    Gail sighed forlornly at the imperfect image reflected in her mirror. As much as she wanted to deny it, she was looking at herself. It had taken her forever and a day to accept that, regardless of how the rest of the world saw her, she was a woman. Staring at her poorly done makeup on that all too masculine, face, she stuck out her tongue at it in pure frustration.

    It would so much easier, if she could just pretend to be the lumbering guy everyone else saw. However, her inner girl had other ideas. After years of broken relationships, lost jobs, and depression, it was pretty clear that only insanity lay in that direction. It had taken years of therapy, anti-depressants, and yet more therapy, to get her to admit the nature of her problem.

    Gail sighed again, making another face at herself. Her daddy always said you had to work with what you had. That made her smile, because she very much doubted her practical had anything like this in mind.

    Her mom was always the strong one, bound and determined to withstand whatever life threw at her, no matter what. Together, her parents had made a good couple, even if they hadn’t a clue on how to deal with her peculiarity. She still missed them so much, despite the years that had passed since the accident that had taken them from her.

    Gail closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She would clean her face off and try yet again. First she decided to follow the advice of that song that had sustained her though many difficult times. She knew her voice left a lot to be desired, but music had always helped. As silly as it was, she sang, “Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens.”

    Losing herself in happier times, she didn’t care who heard her, or what they thought. Lost in those childhood memories, Gail was barely aware of a light tingling upon her face, bug!

    Her eyes snapped open, looking wildly for the creepy crawlie, but instead, her mouth fell open in utter amazement.

    There, in the mirror, was an attractive woman with her makeup done superbly. She could barely tell that she was wearing any makeup at all. The colors and shades were skillfully blended to hide her masculine features.

    Out of the corner of her eye, she spied movement by the drapes that she had carefully pulled shut, to make certain of her privacy. Racked by indecision, she didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted to know, to see, who had done such a wonderful job, while the other simply wanted more.

    Her entire life, Gail wanted to believe in the supernatural and the paranormal. If miracles were real, then just maybe this gross male body of hers wasn’t the prison it had always seemed.

    After the fire left her with no place to stay, her grandmother had taken her in. From another time and place, the eccentric old woman told her all kinds of fantastic tales and stories. For years, she used to leave out treats for the ‘little people’ and it only stopped after her death.

    Gail had inherited the old place, but while she had always hoped and wished that the stories were true, she had never gone to the lengths her grandmother had.

    Were the stories true? Had perhaps her singing, caused them to help her, like one of those old fairy tales about brownies, cobblers, elves and all the rest?

    She had to suppress a giggle. The Lil’ Folk of legend weren’t known for being makeup artists!

    There was one way to prove that theory. Keeping her eyes to herself, she went to her kitchen. Feeling silly, she poured some milk in a bowl and took it with her back to her bureau.

    Sitting, she placed the bowl in front of her.

    Calming herself, she said in her best feminine voice. “Thank you so much. You did a wonderful job. Could you help me with my nails and hair please? I would be most grateful.”

    Feeling even more foolish, she closed her eyes again. Gail had her doubts that it would work again. She was unsure how much time passed, since she couldn’t see, but she was beginning to feel discouraged.

    Suddenly her heart thumped as she felt that ‘tingle’ again. This time it was her hair, and it was like a light breeze was somehow blowing inside her room.

    The ‘tingle’ stopped as her breath caught, but continued after she gently exhaled, relaxing. She seemed to remember that fairy creatures were very shy, and any attempt to see or catch them would be sure to chase them away.

    With an act of will, she kept herself relaxed. It was happening, and sometimes you just had to trust. What must have been a fairly short time later, the ‘tingles’ ended.

    Not wanting to spoil a good thing, Gail gave her unseen makeover artists a warning. “I think you’re finished now, so I’m going to open my eyes, Okay?”

    Not getting a response, she dared a glance.

    That woman in the mirror couldn’t be her! That hair was gorgeous! Much longer and fuller, the dark waves framed her face in just the right way. Both of her eyebrows, while not thin arches, were perfectly acceptable, and she hadn’t even felt any pain from plucking. When she touched her hair, to convince herself it was real, she stopped to stare at the beautiful ovals of her now manicured nails.  

    “Breathe honey, breathe,” she whispered in wonder. It was really her.

    Gail blinked her long lashes, thinking furiously. The bowl of milk in front of her was drained dry. Making up her mind she said, aloud to her invisible benefactors, “Thank you so much! I’m going to leave pencil and paper here, so if you have any needs please let me know. A gift for a gift.”

    “I’m going to my computer to see what else besides milk is good for you. Thank you again. I do hope we can do this again.”

    A tug on her new locks proved that the sudden growth of hair was not only real, but all hers. No more male baldness for her.

    A brilliant smile came to her lips. Magic was ‘real’! She didn’t have to struggle all alone with this any more. Gail had made some new friends.

***

    Doctor Hanson, her therapist, was surprised when she arrived for her appointment, in all of her feminine glory. The Doctor had nothing, but compliments for Gail’s appearance, and remarked how much happier and more confident her patient was since their last visit. The shy, conflicted person, caught struggling against herself, had somehow blossomed.

    When asked what had caused such a dramatic change, Gail just smiled, saying she had made some new friends with a talent for makeovers. She certainly couldn’t argue with the results. From her hair style, to the cute shoes her patient wore, it all seemed customized for her.

    More than a little envious, Doctor Hanson had to ask, “Are they taking new customers?

    Gail giggled. “Sorry Doctor, they don’t run a business and are really shy. It wasn’t because of money that they helped me. You could say they helped all because of a song…

The End  

Note: The song lyrics is from “My Favorite Things” by Rodgers and Hammerstein.

Sacrifices

Disclaimer: This fiction and any resemblance to anyone alive or otherwise is unintended. I the author reserves all rights. A big thanks goes out to Cathy who helped make this readable. Enjoy!

Sacrifices
By
Grover
08/29/09

From the tree where I was hidden, I watched him walk into the cemetery with an enormous boutique of flowers in his ham sized hands. The big man walked purposely as if he knew exactly where he was going. Reaching a rather large headstone he stood there silently. He then knelt beside the cold marble gravestone.

I had trouble believing my eyes. The day started off strange enough when I spied The Main Man himself dressed in a suit and tie for Gawd‘s sake. I’d never seen him in anything but muscle shirts and jeans with the exception of his supersuit.

Dying Pretty

Disclaimer: This is fiction. All the characters and events portrayed here are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely accidental and unintentional. I as the author reserves all rights. A big thanks goes out to Cathy who proofed and generally made this readable. Any remaining errors, or mistakes are mine! Enjoy

Dying Pretty
By
Grover

Dead. They were all dead. Mr. Morton our teacher and advisor; Julie, Rodger, Stu, and the rest of my fellows for our student film project; my classmates who had tagged along as casting extras and the excuse to party on our dime. Everyone was dead.

Heart by Heart

Heart by Heart
By Scott Ramsey

The Colorado air was taking on a definite chill as Monica walked along the path through the rows of markers. She slowed as she saw a small group standing near the grave that was her destination, and as she watched they laid a large wreath of flowers before the stone and then joined hands for a moment. No one said anything, at least not that she could hear, and Monica waited a respectful distance away while they observed their silent vigil. It only lasted a few minutes and then the half dozen women turned and headed back towards the parking area. As they passed her one of them, a pretty young woman with honey blond hair, smiled warmly and Monica gave her a hesitant nod in return.

For Love and Money

FOR LOVE AND MONEY
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I shot up in bed shaking from the cold sweat that was running down my head, I looked around but nothing looked familiar, except the room itself. I threw off the sheets and sat up in my bed letting my legs hand over the edge. As my feet hit the floor it didn’t feel right something was off but what? I got up and staggered to the bathroom, had I gotten drunk last night? I tried to remember what I had done yesterday but could not remember in fact I could not remember anything! I reached the bathroom and fumbled for the light switch finally finding it I turned on the light and walked in. I felt weak nauseous like I was going to throw up, I reached the toilet and lifted the lid and seat but nothing came out. I lowered the seat and yanked my underwear down and sat down. I peed and then wiped myself; something again didn’t feel right but what?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation


What I Did On My Summer Vacation

By Stanman63
Thanks To JennaFL For Proofing And Nora Adrienne for editing!



Synopsis:Is that I got married to my brother's best friend and gave birth to our first child. Now, you may not think it so remarkable, but it is a miracle of modern science and love. I was born a boy. Yes, a boy who became a mother. Now sit back and I will tell you about my very special summer vacation.
 

 

 

Sasha And Mark


Sasha And Mark

By Stanman63
Thanks To JennaFL For Proofing And Nora Adrienne for editing!



Synopsis:As Sasha nurses her twin girls, she remembers the events that led up to becoming a mother.
 

 

 


[-][+][-]


Here I am back home where my Mom has been taking care of me ever since I got sick from going to see my beloved husband Mark. He is currently serving a tour in the HOSPITAL WITHOUT WALLS in Africa.

An Offer You Can’t Refuse

An Offer You Can’t Refuse
By
Julie O

Edited by Robert Arnold

Chapter 1

    “Mr. Wright will see you shortly,” stated the receptionist in a firm tone. “Please have a seat.”

    Nate Rollins nodded and sat down across from the CEO’s receptionist.

    He was both curious and nervous about why he had been ordered to meet with Mr. Wright, the CEO of Bancroft Digital. He had only been with the company for six months and was still doing entry-level projects. He tried to think of anything that would have caught the notice of the boss.

The Furthest Shore

 The Furthest Shore
(Buried Treasures)

By

Grover

    We cast our words out upon the wide digital sea not knowing where the ebb and flow of electrons may take them. The words we write maybe forgotten or they might bring a smile to brighten another’s day. Standing by the sea, I wonder if I will ever know. Soon I’ll wander back to my worn keyboard, for there are more stories yet to be told. For now I am content to walk the sands, looking for signs of others that have tossed their own words upon the ocean waves trusting in fate and surf to wash them to the furthest shore.

Maiden by Decree Chapter 21

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Twenty One
By Maggie Finson

Confluences

or, Have Fun Storming the Castle

“Doesn’t this thing ever give up?” Deirdre grumped as the monster threw itself at the door for the third time.