Transitioning Stories

When my wife died, my stepson was still at home. I took care of Brad the best I could for the two years before he went away to college. By then his real father had reestablished contact with him and had agreed to help with tuition costs, which I wasn’t able to do. I got a chance to meet Doug at Brad’s graduation. It was hard to imagine my wife Cindy being married to him; he was so different from me. He had that kind of ma...

Harkiran was used to being different. As the only Sikh in the school, and the only person of colour, Ostracism had been a constant friend, and Isolation a cruel and unforgiving teacher. But nothing had prepared her for the aftermath of her pronouncement. She brushed her hair and thanked God for the gift of Kesh, the long, dark mane distinctive of her faith, which had remained uncut since her birth eighteen years previousl...