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Caity's World, Part 5 The ensuing weekend wasn’t perhaps one of Caitlyn’s better weekends, but it was by no means her worst. Her worst was likely that one in college where she’d gotten well beyond drunk on vodka and cranberry juice and — well, it was best to forget that weekend and focus on the present. She spent the better part of Saturday cleaning up the rubble that had once been the wall between the living room and the second bedroom. She’d thankfully left the studs intact, so there was merely a big gaping hole of wooden framing between the two, and she vowed to learn once and for all how to hoist drywall and apply spackle properly,

Caity's World, Part 7 “This isn’t fair, you know,” said Caitlyn, growling at Wils.

“Life isn’t fair. Deal with it.” He smiled up at her sweetly.

They were sitting in the Thai restaurant, and — well, three of them were sitting, at least. Despite Caitlyn’s arguing, Wils wouldn’t let her change back, saying that if she wasn’t going to act like herself, then he was leaving, so she was stuck as a centaur. This wasn’t the first time any restaurant had had to accommodate, and after Henderson v. Linsky most places tried hard to accommodate these days, but the best that the restaurant could do left Caitlyn lay

Caity's World, Part 6 The girls in the secretaries’ pool had had a great deal of sympathy for her, and several had offered money or said they’d put her in contact with somebody who would help, and while those were good offers, Christine, the only other Changed person among them, had offered her a free place to stay until she got this all sorted out, and that was an offer she couldn’t refuse. Christine was a satyr, half a goat from the waist down, with short curly brown hair on her head and an innocent, almost cherubic smile. Christine lived in a three-bedroom apartment with her husband Rob, also a satyr, and the two of them we

Caity's World, Part 8 Five years and six months ago, the world had Changed.  Whether it was for better or for worse hadn’t been decided yet.

No-one was entirely clear on what had happened.  The facts of the case were pretty obvious, but they left so many gaps that people couldn’t help but speculate.

Early on a sunny, crisp November morning five years and six months ago, six black speedboats were spotted running up the river toward the university, flying at full tilt.  Eyewitnesses, mostly students on their way to class, reported seeing four men dressed in black leap out of each boat at about 9:05 AM and race silently ac

Caity's World, Part 9 Three years later, the world had changed, but not as much as it would in the succeeding year. The precedent-setting Henderson v. Linsky trial was about to be overturned in the Appellate Courts, where the judges would rule two-to-one that the ghostly visage of poor Joanna Henderson was not, in fact, enough of a person to qualify for equal protection under the Constitution, as the poor girl wasn’t even visible for half the trial, and during the other half, her existence hadn’t been proven by any scientific tests. The Million Monster March down the streets of New York City wouldn’t happen for another two months. There had been

Caity's World, Part 10 There comes a time in every person’s life when she’s had “all she can stands, and can’t stands no more,” and Caitlyn had reached that. She watched him walk away. The only man who’d been even remotely interested in her since her Change, and he was a decent man to boot, intelligent, caring, witty, and somehow she’d turned him away. The realization that she may have actually rejected him boggled her mind, and she felt her knees sagging.

She turned around and stumbled back into the apartment building, stunned, trying to regain her bearings, and collapsed against a wall. Then there was some shouting around

Caity's World, Part 4 The mirror conveniently ended just above waist-level, and if Caitlyn squinted a little, she could almost convince herself that the rest of the woman in the mirror was actually a normal human being. She'd tried on five shirts now, and each one didn’t look right: This one was too “datey,” the last was too casual, and the one before that was too formal. This. Wasn’t. A. Date. She was just meeting a guy, walking with him for a few blocks, and then going home. Nothing more. Even if he did have that wavy hair.

She’d already concluded that he didn’t need to know that Kat was out of town. It was simpler to j

Caity's World, Part 2 She was free. Free as a bird, spinning happily along the hillside, her dress whirling about her, all her cares and worries gone. She was human again, human for good, and the whole horrible nightmare of being a monster was gone, a wisp of a memory. He raced across the hillside and swept her up in his arms, and she swooned. She was human again, finally.

Caitlyn frowned. That girl was also a badly-acted character in a sappy movie on a TV set that couldn’t even be heard over the din of the bar. Stupid Hollywood. What did they know about dealing with this? And then, as suddenly as she had appeared, the irritating girl vanished into

Caity's World, Part 11 The wind had picked up a little as Caitlyn trotted down Sixth Avenue, and by the time she reached Chinatown, a chill had started to settle into her bones. Somewhat to her surprise, it didn’t take much searching to find Yu Sang’s Delicatessen; it was a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a large red sign, buried among the “genuine imported jewellery” stores and discount electronic stores along Mulberry Street. It wasn’t lit; nor would she have expected that it would be at two in the morning.

So she stood there, trying to decide what to do next in the dim greyish light leaking from the end of the street. This

Caity's World, Part 13 “You — you knew my father?” stammered Caitlyn.

“Yes, I did,” said the misshapen creature, smiling his hideous smile. “Knew him, aided him, abetted him — and you look quite like him — that nose, the mouth — though I’ll wager those eyes are your mother’s.”

“I — I don’t understand,” said Caitlyn. “How do you know him? I mean, he wasn’t anyone important.”

“Was he now?” said Ji-Cheng, and waited patiently for her to answer.

“But he was just a math teacher!” she said. “He taught at a community college!”

“D

Caity's World, Part 14 Caitlyn sat glued to the floor, awestruck, and had she not had her forelegs and butt firmly planted on it, she was certain she would have fallen over. “That’s — I mean — but...” she trailed off.

“Wise man say, do not speak until your thoughts are worthy of being heard,” said Ji-Cheng dully, settling back down into his tub.

“How can my father be alive!?” she cried. “I’ve been to his grave! I — I helped choose the words for the stone...”

“You are here, are you not?” asked Ji-Cheng.

“Yes, but — ”

“How many pe

Caity's World, Part 15 The old kerosene lamp flickered dimly, which was perhaps for the best as neither Caitlyn nor Kim-na wanted to see much of their surroundings. The thin layer of sludge clinging to their hooves was covered in a layer of water about a foot deep, or at least Caitlyn hoped it was water. It swirled around her bare ankles and reminded her of the time as a young girl that she’d gone down to the river after the spring rains and waded in the slurping, hungry quicksand-like mud at the shoreline to see the blooming lilies. She tried to console herself that the sludge was just mud, but somehow, she couldn’t quite produce a convincing argumen

Caity's World, Part 16 There had been a bit of an argument as to what to do next, and in the end, Caitlyn won. She needed a rest, she needed a bath, she needed to clean off at least a dozen layers of grime from her hooves, and she wasn’t taking “no” for an answer on any of those. Kim-na had a plan as well, detailed on a piece of old wrinkled paper in her backpack, but the bath won.

The sleazy motel owner had looked at them very strangely when they rented the room, but he wasn’t one to argue: Caitlyn’s Visa card was good, and that was all he really cared. Both were girls? And muddy? With torn clothing? — And horses? He’d

Caity's World, Part 17 They had been driving for some hours, and their escape was starting to seem easy, even if they couldn’t agree on a radio station. Caitlyn, for her part, wanted a nice simple “mix” station, something light, something to divert her from her troubles. But the back window of the truck was open, and Kim-na kept shouting from under her tarp that she wanted to hear “good music,” and it took Caitlyn some time to realize that “good” to Kim-na meant “gangsta’ rap” to everybody else. Add to that that Kim-na wanted her to crank up the volume to the point where Caitlyn’s eardrums felt like they

Caity's World, Part 18 When her eyes opened, the first thing she saw was searing, blinding white light. Muffled, distorted voices were saying something, and the fuzzy, blurry face of a man she’d never seen before was leaning over her, his hand cradling her head. There was more — Kim-na was there, leaning over her as well, and she was saying something to the man, but her speech was garbled and echoed like she was speaking through a cardboard tube.

Slowly, Caitlyn began to understand their words.

“ — probably be fine,” said the man. “Her eyes are moving. She’s breathing, and her pulse is back to normal. That’s a good

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Caity's World, Part 3

by *phantom-inker, Oct 12, 2007, 1:33:44 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Fantasy

In the intervening days, Caitlyn was more confused than she’d remembered ever being.  She was, in the words of her boss, wandering around like a zombie.  Most days at work, she tried hard to maintain a human appearance, but twice already this week she’d transformed back into a centaur without realizing it, once nearly destroying a stall in the women’s lavatory in the process.

She wasn’t entirely sure why he had unnerved her so much.  He was cute, he was suave, he was smart, and for some reason, he seemed to actually like her, and that led to more consternation than she knew how to handle.  Was he a weirdo?  A psycho?  Chasing her on a dare?  Did he have ulterior motives?  She wasn’t a catch; she wasn’t some guy’s dream girl; she was sure of that — at least, she was trying to convince herself she was sure of that.

Her mind swirled with possibilities, and on Thursday, she very precisely, neatly, and obliviously slammed her head into the middle of the doorway of her apartment building when returning from work.  There was a loud thud.

“Yaaahhhh, dammit,” she cried, holding her head.  She ducked, wincing, and stumbled inside.  “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow...”

The concierge, a pleasant, clean-cut, dark-skinned man in his mid-twenties with a mild African accent, startled from his workday ennui.  “Are you okay?”

“No,” she said, doubling over and holding her head.

“Should I call an ambulance?” he asked, biting his lip.

“No,” she repeated.  She slowly stood back upright and lowered her hand.  “It’s not bleeding...  It just hurts like hell.”

“I am sorry to hear that, Miss Camberley.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Caitlyn?  I hate that name.”

“Often, Miss Camberley.”

“The only reason I haven’t changed it is because I can’t afford the paperwork, okay?  If I should have any name, it ought to be Stockwell, like Mom and Ellen.  So until then, call me Caitlyn.”

“Yes, Miss Camberley.”

She glared at him, but the look on his face was somewhere between apologetic and terrified, and she softened.

“Any mail for me, George?”

“No, Miss Camberley.”

“Thanks.”

She turned away and walked toward the elevators.  She hated the elevators.  But she hated the stairs more.  Of course, she’d been a centaur for the last three hours now, so that left her with options, however meager.  She winced.  This time, she was going to fit, and not have to apologize to anyone else.

She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath, and pulled.  Her body began to retract.  Her forelegs disappeared into her waist, and her midsection shrank.  In a few moments, there was only a normal human woman standing barefoot in the lobby wearing a miniskirt, blouse, and jacket.

She let out a sigh.  “I wish it didn’t hurt so much,” she said.

“Does it hurt when you change?” asked the concierge.

“No, my head.  It’s only a little uncomfortable to stay like this, like when you have to use a bathroom and can’t.  But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna use up an entire elevator myself again.”

“Ah,” he said.  “My brother William is a winged dragon man.  I did never seen him return to his human form after he changed.  I did wonder how it felt.”

“You’re best off staying human,” she said.  “Anyway, my elevator’s here.”

She walked inside the elevator, and the doors closed.

For some reason, they were playing a horrible elevator-music version of the Girl from Ipanema, which left her plenty of reason to drown in her own thoughts.  Ellen...  she hadn’t talked to her sister in nearly a month now.  Of course, what was she going to say?  She was just a lowly secretary at a large, faceless investment company, while Ellen was a hotshot lawyer down in Virginia.  Caitlyn was stuck as an ugly mutant horse, while her sex-bomb of a sister got to stay human.  Caitlyn’s art degree was only good for an endless supply of doodles, a depressing number of them on the backs and margins of her student-loan bills, while Ellen had nearly already earned her first million.  She felt like venting, and her cell phone nearly came out of her pocket, but there was no sense calling her mother; she knew how Caitlyn felt all too well.  Caitlyn decided to call tomorrow, after the “date” was over.  That would at least be news, a reason to call the woman besides the usual gripes.

The doors opened again on the seventh floor, and Caitlyn walked out into the hallway.  She passed Kat going the other way, cheetah-lion-man still in tow.  This had to be a record:  Nearly a week and Kat was still with him.

“Hi, Kat, how are you two doing?” she asked.

Kat giggled.  “Awesome,” she said, hugging his arm.  “How about you?”

“Another day, another dollar,” she said, shrugging.  “So you two really hit it off, huh?”

Kat looked up at him dreamily.  “He’s tall, he’s handsome, he’s rich, and he’s amazing in bed.  What’d you think I was gonna do, leave him?”

Caitlyn smiled.  Well, actually, yes.  Kat’s track record with guys was legendarily terrible — but it was good to see her happy.  Kat might be a ditz, but she deserved happiness as much as anybody else.

“Well, I’m glad you two are doing so well.”  She nodded politely, stifling a growing feeling in her lower body that she needed to change back.  Soon.

“We sure are.  We’re heading over to his place for a romantic — actually — Caity, you still have a key, right?  Can you watch Muffy for me this weekend?  He wanted me to come meet his family this weekend, but I wasn’t going to leave Muffy by herself.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow.  Since when were cats unable to spend a weekend alone?

“Alright, alright, yeah, yeah, I’ll watch Muffy.  You two have fun.”

“Thanks, Caity!” cried Kat, and bounced over to her with a giant hug.

“Okay, okay, let go.  You gotta get going, and I gotta change back soon.”

“Ohhh, okay,” said Kat.  “I don’t know why you change so often.”

Caitlyn shook her head.  “Neither do I,” she muttered under her breath.

She waved as Kat and her arm candy disappeared down the hall.  That girl was something else.

She sighed, walked toward her apartment, opened the door, and all at once remembered that tomorrow she had a “date” with Wils.  But — with Kat gone, now she didn’t need to meet him, did she?  But if she didn’t meet him, then what?  He didn’t seem all that bad.  And maybe she’d need him as an excuse on another weekend.  But this could actually turn into a date, couldn’t it?  She wasn’t ready for anybody.  No way.  Not until she was human again.  Which meant she couldn’t see him.  Or anybody else.  Not now.  But she had to meet up with him.  He seemed to like her.  And he was cu — useful.  Her mind reeled, boggling at the options.  Stay?  Go?  Go?  Stay?  There was no way she could —

And suddenly she realized that her concentration had slipped and she was changing back, her body mushrooming, growing —

And her head slammed into the top of the doorway.

When she came to about a half hour later, the concierge and two paramedics were standing over her.  “Hi,” she said weakly, “uh, I don’t suppose you guys could accidentally kill me so I don’t have to decide what to do tomorrow?”

Caity's World, Part 3by *phantom-inker

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Fantasy

Caity's World, Part 3.

Part 2 is here. Part 4 is here. The introduction and author's notes are here.

As before, if you like it, or have questions or comments or any opinions at all, please say something. It's the comments that keep me going.

love 1 1

joy 1 1

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~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

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~minecraftbob Nov 12, 2012

hahaha! poor noggin. ive got the feeling tht this wint be the last time she slams her head into somethin.

~Zapp506 Dec 31, 2010

My favorite thing about this grammatically is that you double space when you end your sentences.
But I love the story, too~ I don't like how Caity hates being a centaur, but I also like that about her.
So, yeah. Can't wait to read more~

*phantom-inker Jan 2, 2011 Hobbyist Digital Artist

There's lots more to read. And who knows? You just might see a little character growth in there.

And yes, I double-space after terminating punctuation on sentences. It's a holdover from the typing class I took years ago back in high school, and I even put the double space in comments like this and even tweets and cell phone text messages. I care perhaps more than I ought about the grammar and style and even the appearance of the words on the page when I write.