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Somikat
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Aug 12, 2013
A normal day, in a normal city, in a normal country—or so Charlie felt—and to make matters worse, it was just another in a long line of normal days. It all had the young woman feeling too much like a normal woman, though the 21 year old was not what everyone would describe as 'normal'. She was quirky, prone to laughing at the wrong moment, and as friendly as she seemed to most, she was at heart rather awkward, and felt herself socially inept, though she managed to hide it most of the time. In addition to this, she had not always been a she—at least not physically.
She had felt a she ever since she was too young to know what the word transsexual meant, and had known that she was what she was long before she had a word with which to term it. Now she was 21 and looked every bit the woman she had for so long felt on the inside, until you managed to get her out of her panties, that is, but nobody had managed to do that since she had moved to Alexandria three months ago, nor in the months preceding that. She had moved to begin a new life, and held aspirations of studying photography or English literature at university, though that plan had had to postponed until next year due to lack of funds. Instead, she now worked a normal job in a normal grocery store, and although she had managed to find an outlet for her interests—writing short stories for online publishers, and offering cheap photo shoots for aspiring bands and musicians—her life was a tad more boring than she desired. When it all boiled down to it, what she was really missing was a spontaneous kind of excitement, different from the ordered pleasure she found in her writing and in her shoots.
Such excitement she had hoped to find in a new city, where everything was new and nobody knew her past, nor why a transsexual woman would choose a name which was more commonly bestowed upon men. The logic behind that was typical of Charlie's quirkiness: she felt that the act of choosing a particularly feminine name undermined the fact that ever since she was little she had felt like a girl, and so when she outwardly began to embrace this long-held intuition, she chose a name which allowed her femininity to flow from within. The excitement, however, had not come so easily. It was tough fitting into a new place—tougher than she had anticipated—and so far the only friends she had made were the people that she worked with and a handful of local musicians. Beyond that, there was nothing but acquaintances whom she saw in passing, and few of those gave her any indication that they wanted to be more than passing acquaintances.
All of this and more she mulled over as she walked home from work one evening, having seen off the day's last customers and closed up the shop. She still wore the black slacks and blouse which she wore while she was working, and her long brunette hair hung in waves over the shoulders of her petite frame. Tomorrow is a new day—let me make it a remarkable one, she thought positively as she entered her apartment complex, a friendly smile touching her soft lips as her grey-blue eyes fell upon a neighbour of hers stood by the mailboxes, busy flicking through his letters.
She had felt a she ever since she was too young to know what the word transsexual meant, and had known that she was what she was long before she had a word with which to term it. Now she was 21 and looked every bit the woman she had for so long felt on the inside, until you managed to get her out of her panties, that is, but nobody had managed to do that since she had moved to Alexandria three months ago, nor in the months preceding that. She had moved to begin a new life, and held aspirations of studying photography or English literature at university, though that plan had had to postponed until next year due to lack of funds. Instead, she now worked a normal job in a normal grocery store, and although she had managed to find an outlet for her interests—writing short stories for online publishers, and offering cheap photo shoots for aspiring bands and musicians—her life was a tad more boring than she desired. When it all boiled down to it, what she was really missing was a spontaneous kind of excitement, different from the ordered pleasure she found in her writing and in her shoots.
Such excitement she had hoped to find in a new city, where everything was new and nobody knew her past, nor why a transsexual woman would choose a name which was more commonly bestowed upon men. The logic behind that was typical of Charlie's quirkiness: she felt that the act of choosing a particularly feminine name undermined the fact that ever since she was little she had felt like a girl, and so when she outwardly began to embrace this long-held intuition, she chose a name which allowed her femininity to flow from within. The excitement, however, had not come so easily. It was tough fitting into a new place—tougher than she had anticipated—and so far the only friends she had made were the people that she worked with and a handful of local musicians. Beyond that, there was nothing but acquaintances whom she saw in passing, and few of those gave her any indication that they wanted to be more than passing acquaintances.
All of this and more she mulled over as she walked home from work one evening, having seen off the day's last customers and closed up the shop. She still wore the black slacks and blouse which she wore while she was working, and her long brunette hair hung in waves over the shoulders of her petite frame. Tomorrow is a new day—let me make it a remarkable one, she thought positively as she entered her apartment complex, a friendly smile touching her soft lips as her grey-blue eyes fell upon a neighbour of hers stood by the mailboxes, busy flicking through his letters.
