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Imp pulse I'm an Imp, No, no. Not Her, and besides, she's not really one of us, but a mortal mutant. And no, I'm not telling you my real name. I know an imp who ended up in a magic pen serving some dork who wanted to be a superhero thanks to his real name getting out, Anyway, on with the story. There arent many of us left, because humans dont believe in mischievous spirits anymore, which is one reason why I wanted this story written. Its starts with me being able to leave my own realm and come to the world of mortal men, an opportunity I'd been waiting to take advantage of for a very long time. I pop out in some city (dont ask, they're all the same to me), and start looking around for some mortals to mess with. I find what I'm looking for at a hotel, where a newly wed couple were about to join their friends and family for some dancing, as soon as he bride removed her train so she could dance easier. That's where I came in, and swapped the bride and groom's outfits. To add to the fun, they would do the saame dancing they had planned to do, aware of the change in clothes - in fact aroused by the change in clothes, but operating as if nothing was wrong. And the guests would ignore the swap and just dance the night away as if everything was perfectly normal. Eventually the dancing wound down, and the now seriously aroused couple practically ran for the honeymoon suite. As my final gift to the couple I had them to continue the role switch through their lovemaking thanks to a strap on and artificial vag respectively. The spells would wear off overnight, so the couple would be back to normal in the morning, with just an ... unusual set of memories. Or so I thought, right up to the moment Just Al put his hand on my shoulder. Just Al is one of the Dominion, those who keep on eye on creatures such as myself. No, Just Al isnt his real name, but a nickname he picked up a long time ago. Just Al takes me to what amounts to his office, and says, "You're pretty new at dealing with mortals, arent you?" I replied, "Well, yeah, but you knew that without asking. What's this about?" "You did permanent harm to those two humans." "What do you mean permanent. The spell wore off by now." "Yes. but you apparently dont understand how human brains work. You gave them massive pleasure, but that pleasure is connected to the circumstances under which it happened. In short, they are now addicted to dressing and acting as the opposite gender." A light went off in my head, and I went "Oh ... crap." "Indeed. I will mitigate the damage as best I can, but I'm afraid I do have to punish you." **** So here I am, stuck as a mortal for 60 - 80 years, and the only real outlet I have for my chaotic nature is in writing stories. And based on some of the stories I've read, I'm not the only imp doing time as a mortal writer ... End.

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Seemingly centuries, only a couple weeks had passed since they first met. A blind date, his not hers, turned out excruciating. He imagined his colleague rolling on the floor with laughter at what he wrought, but maybe he meant well. He may have not realized the poisonous negativity the woman vented. Pretty but plain, plump but not fat, her features hadn't forced her to try a blind date. First impressions wouldn't have had Joe kicking her out of bed. Conversation would have. The obvious...

PalimpsestChapter 3 Prodigal Brother

Awakened by a relentless buzzing from the building entrance, Marta heard yelling quieted by three floors distance when it stopped. Glancing out the window, she saw Joe looking up at it. Beside him a blond man slightly balding spread hands in a plea pose, all she could see from a high perspective. They vanished into the building. Joe knocked. "Are you descent?" he yelled through the door. "Not enough, but come on in," she yelled back, at least the end part. Sitting up, leaning on pillows...

PalimpsestChapter 4 Quite Contrary

Surfaces crumble when bedrock shifts. Day to day impetus dies. Holding the quotidian, efforts not to fuck up, to become outrageous or insane or illegal or at the least improper loses grip. For instance getting stumbling drunk before heading to work because your best friend found some guy reveals the fragile integrity of a wounded soul. Three shots of tequila (the others had two), two bottles of Dos Equis (the others had one beer) and secret shots of a fancier tequila while feigning bathroom...

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