The baby is due in one month! Been busy taking care of the Mrs. No time for stories.
I do hope you're all doing well.
The Patch- TG Part 5I think that summer was when I learned about the meaning of bittersweet.The Patch- TG Part 5 by TGfascinated
The victory of being able to appear to the world as girl was, if I look at it now, resplendent. It was a relief, and it was a vindication.
The pain, however, made it all bittersweet.
Dr. Greenberg's restrictions ended up being very necessary. I generally spent all my time in bed, lying on the couch, or sitting on my donut-shaped pillow. Walking barefoot across the floor with anything but feathery steps could cause me great pain on many days. I took showers only, as sitting in a bathtub would have been way too painful.
Dad's primary client, the one that made him quite success, asked him to handle their call-center in North Carolina as well. He flew out there for a week, and then came back to Seattle to get his team set up to handle the additional load. That meant even great commissions for Dad, but I hardly saw him all summer. In fact, the only time I really saw
The Patch- TG Part 4We moved 45 minutes away from our small home in Seattle to a rental house outside Bellevue in Carver Hill.The Patch- TG Part 4 by TGfascinated
Carver Hill promised a shorter commute for Dad to work (not that I understood that at 9), and larger houses. And, it had schools that had already dealt with 'the patch' with clear cut policies of acceptance. Not that Seattle schools didn't have a policy, but our particular Seattle school apparently hadn't dealt with it or failed to implement it properly (not that I entirely understood that at age 9, either).
You'd think I'd have great concerns about moving, but I didn't. My friendships in the old school were, as I see it now, tenuous at best. And I had the great hope that maybe, maybe, I could change my identity sooner than age 11 if this area was more tolerant. I didn't express that to my parents, but I had real hope. And that hope had me happily moving into the Carver Hill house and leaving Northeast Seattle behind.
The house was a large
Circa de MiseriaOn a summer's night, advertising freedom from the mundane, dirty drag of life, the beckoning lights of the circus attract wandering souls from miles around. Hollow screams of long-lost joy and haunting cries of happiness echo over the hills, the activity becoming a center of energy for the remainder of the night. The Ferris Wheel oversees everything, bringing its occupants up, over, and around; up, over, and around, until the bright lights become blurs in comparison to the vast stretch of land that can be seen from the apex. In the early hours of the morning, merely hours from now, the rides will be shut down and hauled away, the tents and stands packed up, the animals carted off into the distance, the uproar of mislead lives gone to the next town. Only abandoned popcorn, lost tickets, and memories that would have to be scraped off the ground for it to ever be untainted, will be left to tell that Circa de Miseria had ever existed in that time and space. But for the night, all doors areCirca de Miseria by ChaosOfNoise