LGBT Stories

Phyllis stood outside the door to The Outlook. Brandon was late again. If the rest of the night proved typical, he would arrive in about an hour, and in still another hour feign sleepiness in order to go out later with someone who had caught his eye.

She wondered why she put up with it. She would have sneered at a woman in her position six months ago. But here she was.

She walked down to the streetlight beside the alley, looking across the street at the empty windows. Again.
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I had no idea that the backroads of Florida were infested with so many rednecks. I was finding out really fast, though. My partner, significant other, or whatever-is- comfortable-for-you-to-call-it Belinda and I had been driving most of the day on our way to the La Paradisio resort on the gulf coast. The trip had been nice enough, and we were glad to get the time alone together. Between our careers… well, her career. I don’t think being a manager of a shoe store qualifies as more than a job, at least for me. Anyway, our relationship had been suffering from a lack of time, and this trip was likely going to be a turning point for us, one way or the other.
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Roxanne opened the box and pulled out the earphones. She had ordered the Perfect Sound unit three weeks ago, and it was very expensive. Now that she saw it, it looked unimpressive. But if it would do the trick, the price would be worth it.

She’d bought it on the recommendation of Sally, her closest friend at work. She’d gone on and on about it, almost like some kind of religious conversion. Of course, that was silly. One of the things Roxanne and Sally had in common was their involvement with their respective churches.
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Marcia came down the stairs in her green robe and slippers, gently rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She yawned as she realized how hard she’d slept. The contest for log-hood was in serious contention.

She staggered into the kitchen and went to the fridge. Pulling the door open she reached in and pulled out a ginger ale. Swiping her long, ash blond hair back from her face, she popped it and took a long drink.

Then, for the third morning in as many days, she want to the telephone and dialed the number for work. “Hello, Jeannie?” she croaked. “I won’t be coming in again today. I don’t know if it’s the flu or food poisoning, but I can’t make it in.
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Indian universities are infamous for its student unrest and agitations. Universities have been converted to political playgrounds of different political parties. Each party is interested in campus politics so as to recruit youth for the parties. Feud between political parties often ends up in street fighting, arson and murders. The youth do not learn lessons from their ancestor’s sufferings. But for a clever and cunning person, colleges are well suited to build their political ambitions and soon they get elevated in national politics and often become ministers. But they are very few in number. Most of the students who indulge in political activities at colleges spoils there career and end up either as goons for their respective parties or get accused in murder cases and spend rest of their time in jails. I also became a scapegoat of campus politics in my life and escaped miraculously out of it. This story is based on my experiences in custody. (more…)