You’re the one that I want


Let’s have another short story. The brief for this one was to write a piece of dialogue between Veronica and Maureen about clothes. 

I may have tweaked the brief a little…



Veronica dropped her shopping on the floor. There was an apologetic tinkling sound of a jar of pickled onions imploding.

“Oh God, you weren’t supposed to see this yet,” he said, his hands covering his crotch and chest like some demure goddess rising from the waves. Which was not far from the truth as he was dressed from head to stockinged toe in Veronica’s clothes.

“How … how long?”

He hung his head. “I’ve had the feelings all my life. Never had the courage to try it. I didn’t know what you’d say.”

Veronica staggered to a stool at the breakfast table. “Well, Martin, I don’t know what to say.”

“Actually, I’d like to be known as Maureen. If you don’t mind.”


“If that’s alright.”

Veronica gulped for air. “Okay then,” she said, mostly to herself. “I can do this. It’s okay.”

“You mean that? The bit about it’s okay?” Martin had the wide-eyed look of a puppy desperate to please its owner.

“You silly sausage,” said Veronica. She stepped forward to give Martin a hug. “Of course it’s okay. If this is what you want.”

“It is. More than anything else in the world.”

“There is just one thing,” said Veronica. “I think you might need to work your way up to Sandy from Grease. Maybe Mrs Doubtfire or Tootsie would be a better place to start.”

“You think so?”

“It’s the skin-tight hot pants. When we say VPL, we normally mean ‘visible panty line’.”


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