It was a hot summer night in the dangerous city of 2030. As an alcoholic detective, I knew all too well the perils that lurked around every corner. But tonight, I had a job to do. A notorious mass murderer had been on the loose for months, evading detection and leaving no trace behind at the scenes of the crimes. But my bloodhound nose was onto something. I stumbled through the dark alleyways, following the faintest hint of a scent. My mind was foggy from the alcohol, but my instincts were sharp. Suddenly, I heard a noise. I turned to see a figure darting around a corner up ahead. I gave chase, but the suspect vanished into thin air. I realized that the killer had hacked the instant sight identification device and altered their identity. I was determined to bring this monster to justice.

I need them to stop the train. I might have use the rope to fix the portal. Time is running out to find out what is happening in the C cell tunnel. They stabbed him right in front of the staff, and it was a bloody mess. I get asked quite often if it bothers me to see the things I’ve seen and I have to say, yes. I’m human after all. One of the few left.

People are talking excitedly about some great discovery before they exit the train. I’m excited to get some whiskey in my blood to stop the shake. The C cell tunnel is close by. I can walk from here, I stop by the liquor store and grab a bottle,start chugging and throw the bottle in the gutter. Crisis diverted. I open my nav to cut the security analog, and I am in.

I've got to move quickly. I don't know how long this pass com will last, but if it continues for more than a half hour, the signal will be fried. It's already weak as hell. My fingers dance over the keys until I arrive at the location of the first train car that went through. There are only eight cars so far. I check the time. Exactly twenty-four minutes since the last one came through. I am not going to be able to avoid the bots without detection and I still need to make it to the other end of the line where the second set of rails were cut. The place where his torso was found. I buy another bottle and down it like an animal. This is my life now. I'm an alcoholic and an adrenaline junkie. I think about the portal closing. What do I want? I want to go home. I want to see my family again. I want to live with dignity like everyone else. I want to see what lies beyond. I want to know what happened to my wife.

The next train is coming in ten minutes. I pack up and head off.

(this entire story was written by artificial intelligence)

brought to you by, Mamba.

To me, gender is spiritual.

I connect with the idea of masculine and feminine energy in the same way I connect with the idea of the elements—earth, air, fire, water. They are energies that I can feel, ideas I can consider and explore.

I'm a woman, and I suppose that is for a few reasons. I have a female body and feel connected to it, and I definitely wouldn't want a male body. People see me as a woman and I feel comfortable with that. I like she/her pronouns. Although I sort of like he/him pronouns too, and I would be happy to go by those as well. People just don't use them for me, because they assume I'm a woman. And they're not wrong. I am a woman.

But I think I'm also more than that.

I believe that everyone has access to both masculine and feminine energy. So gender isn't just about which energies you can connect to, because anyone could connect to any (that doesn't mean they always do, but they could). Gender is so personal. It's internal. And we can make it external too, with our expressions of it, but where it truly resides is inside us.

And no one really knows what it is. Is it inherent? Is it learned? How much do our experiences affect it? Is it all made-up? No one really knows.

I do like the idea of being pangender (all genders), but I feel like a bit of an imposter saying so because I'm also a cis woman. I wouldn't call myself nonbinary. But pangender feels right. I'm a pangender woman. And why not? It feels right, and that's really the only way we have to determine gender anyway.

Not that I need to label it. But if I don't label it, I'm stuck in the "assumed woman" space.

Ultimately, the mainstream view of gender is still so limited. Gender is expansive. It doesn't need to be any one thing. It doesn't need to make sense. Because people are complicated and don't make a lot of sense, and I think we need to embrace that more.

So to me, gender is spiritual. It's a way for me to connect with myself, and with something greater than myself.

To someone else, it could be nothing more than what their physical body happens to be. Or it could be vitally important to them in a completely different way than mine is to me.

Why should it have to be the same for everyone? I say it doesn't. It can be anything.

Aldric was sitting under a tree when Randolf found him.

Aldric was picking up dead leaves, fiddling around with them, then letting them fall back to the earth. He didn't break them, didn't crush them in his fist, he just looked that them then let the fall.

Randolf approached him. "Hey, Aldric," He said.

Aldric didn't respond.

Randolf sat down next to him. "Aldric," he said, nudging his friend's shoulder. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing."

"Leif thinks you are gathering berries."

Aldric continued looking at the ground. "No. Can't do that."

"What do you mean?"

Aldric turned to him, "You can't actually think I am capable of gathering anything," He said. "If I try to get some mint leaves I would come back with hemlock. If I try to find blueberries I would come back with nightshade."

"That is not true."

"Yes it is. I grew up inside castle walls, I never needed to know what a blueberry bush looks like. I f I was in charge of keeping anyone alive I would fail."

Randolf grabbed Aldric. "No," He said firmly. "You kept Leif alive. You kept me alive."

"That is not the same thing."

"You right it is not. What you did was harder."

Aldric stood up. "No. That was simple. Out here I am as useless as a fly. I should go back to the castle where I at least have a chance of being able to do something."

Randolf shot up. "You can't do that."

Aldric started to walked away.

"You can't go."

Aldric turned and shoved Randolf to the ground with more force that Randolf know he had.

"You can't stop me," Aldric said, eyes hard. "There is no point in trying."

Then as Aldric stalked off Randolf whispered. "Don't leave me."

People are male or female. However, that is not what we are talking about in this challenge. We are talking about Gender identity which is defined as follows:

Gender identity refers to a person’s deeply felt, internal and individual experience of gender, which may or may not correspond to the person’s physiology or designated sex at birth.

I think this is an important distinction to make. Regardless of how you feel about it, there is only Male and Female. Just because this is a fact, it doesn't negate your feelings about it, and I think that's also an important distinction to make.

Our feelings are highly subjective to our hormonal state, whatever that is. We each have testosterone and estrogen flowing in our bodies and the levels of each have a tremendous effect on how we feel about ourselves and those around us.

If you ask someone who is attracted to the same sex, they will tell you that it feels normal to them. They will also tell you that they didn't choose to be attracted to the same sex, they just are. There is some physiological reason for it. If you feel like you are a boy trapped in a girl's body, there is some physiological reason for it. If you feel like you are a girl trapped in a boy's body, there is some physiological reason for it. The right approach should be to identify the physiological reason for it and correct it, not to change physical genders. Changing physical genders would be like treating a symptom, it doesn't correct the problem.

I know what you are going to say, but it FEELS normal to me. I know it does but if we correct the physiological issue, it will change what feels normal to you. I know what you are going to say next, but I don't want to change who I am and to that I say, YES YOU DO! Your feelings don't match your body and you want that corrected. So, correct it the right way, not the way that is just going treat the symptom and not really fix the problem.

My own experience with gender is pretty unremarkable. I have always been a boy. However, I did not feel the desire to act like a stereotypical boy. The reason is because I have low testosterone levels which indicate there may be a medical issue I need to correct. That doesn't mean I acted like a stereotypical girl though, I still acted like a boy, just less stereotypical. It also means that women were not attracted to me all that much which is a biology thing. Studies show that women are attracted to men who have more testosterone. But I guess that's a different topic.

Drunk on pleasure and left to hang—isn't that the dream come true of a certified masochist? A plan to fail on purpose, just to get a taste of that sweet torture!

They shake just at the thought of the weight of that intense gaze as it rolls all over them, making them blubber for more!

An opportunity to go on a crazy binge is presented to the one doling out the punishment.

A smile, one with too many teeth. Finger guns and a wink. I've blurted something out again that was and wasn't me.

No one laughs. It was and wasn't a joke.

There are too many contradictions, I know.

I rush to cover up my mistake. Trembling, tripping over words to get their attention off what I've just said.

"How many therapists does it take to change a light bulb?"

Indulgent, fake fake fake smiles. Not endeared, but polite.

They hate me.

"Only one! But the light bulb has to want to change!"

A forced laugh, nervous in the straight faces of the others. They nod slowly, dismiss me and jump to the next topic naturally.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Why did I think-no, I didn't think, that's the thing.

God, if you're up there, strike me down, please.

I published a poetry collection!

This has been in the making for well over a year, and I'm so so proud of how it turned out. If you like my poetry/my writing please do me a favor and check my book out or share this announcement!

Link:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1387509802

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/phoenix-mind-sadie-rhoff/1142788725

Lulu com: https://www.lulu.com/shop/sadie-rhoff-and-celia-wang/phoenix-mind/paperback/product-n4zmme.html

About the book:

Phoenix Mind, Sadie N. Rhoff’s debut poetry collection, is an exploration of how to love: from first love to daydream love to upending the very idea of love itself.

This book is the culmination of lots of experiences that I've had, about trying to fall in love, about not being sure what love is, about self-love and figuring out what love means to me.

Acknowledgements:

I can't possibly share this book without mentioning some of the people here on Prose that made it come into reality. @TeaRise was the first person who convinced me that I should publish my writing, and that it was worth publishing. @Danceinsilence has always been an inspiration as well as a resource--one of the first things I did was seek out his publishing guide here on Prose. @Mnezz is always so encouraging, and such a ray of sunshine, and whose feedback continues to motivate me to keep writing. And @anarosewood has been so, so supportive through this whole process, as well as a huge inspiration. And a shout out to @coldfront @JesseEngel @zoe_eee @JimLamb @deathetix @Finder and @Ata who all offered support/suggestions about the book in a post so old you've probably all forgotten about it... :D

I never thought I'd call myself a poet, let alone publish a poetry collection, so I want to give the biggest ever thank you to everyone that gave me the confidence to go through with this. That includes everyone who reads my work, and especially everyone who leaves such lovely comments. It's such a pleasure to know so many brilliant and kind people.

So again, thank you all.

notes:

Sadie N. Rhoff is not my real name, but my pen name, and fun fact, it's an anagram of HandsOfFire, which I hope someone appreciates because I feel quite clever about it :)

Lastly, please if you want to support my writing, consider spreading the word about this book, if not checking it out yourself. I hope you all enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing (and even editing) it <3

(1)

The buzzing of my phone drills into my brain like a diamond-tipped engraving tool. It takes about three tries, but I finally manage to find it on the bedside table and drag it under the blanket. I try to see whose name is on the screen, but my right eye won’t focus, and the left one refuses to even open.

How much did I drink last night, where did I go, and who did I go there with?

Always the same three questions, and the first two are always gone into the black hole of gin and bad choices.

I force myself to sit up. I peel my left eye open, and thankfully the right one tracks along. As I focus them together, the phone stops buzzing and the words I hate appear:

3 MISSED CALLS. As I read it, the 3 becomes 4.

I think her name was Karen. Or Kora… or maybe Coral? Shit, I don’t know for sure.

I open the call log, and squint. Fuck! Gil was an okay partner, in small doses. Unless he called and woke me up. I know I have to call him back, but he’s gonna wait a few minutes; I can’t remember ever having to pee this badly.

As I’m getting up, the sheet pulls off the corner of the mattress, curling up alongside my pillow.

Where the fuck is my pillowcase?

A bass drum begins to beat loudly behind my eyes, before settling into a small set of bongos, being played by an angry 5 year-old. I wince and stretch, my back making sounds that are more like cracking knuckles than I’m comfortable with. At least it helps my head a little; the pounding behind my eyes eases slower and duller into the space between my sinuses and my ears.

I stumble toward the bathroom, and without warning, the coffee table I use for a TV stand jumps out and slams itself into my right shin.

Ow! God Damn it!

I finally make it to the bathroom, and have no more started peeing, than the phone starts going off again. Of course, the sound makes me jump a little, and I spray the seat. It’s gonna be one of those days.

I manage to wipe the seat off with a single pass of toilet paper, then turn and wash my hands. I make the mistake of looking at my reflection, and I have to splash my face with water. I’m getting too old to keep doing this to myself.

Yeah, like you’ve never told yourself THAT one before.

I dry my face as I walk back to the bed and grab my phone. I swipe the circle on the phone, and a small hologram of Gil’s face appears, floating just above the screen.

“Jesus Christ, Mac! Put some clothes on!

I realize with some chagrin that my phone is in full-vid mode.

Who the hell was I on the phone with last night!?

“What the fuck do you want?” I ask, swiping the vid mode button, making just my face appear in the small monitor box in the corner of the screen.

“Thank you. You look like shit, partner.”

“Gilbert, old buddy, if you called and woke me up to act like my mother—

“Shut up. We got a case. It looks like he’s struck again.”

“Fuck! I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Why don’t you jump in and out of your hydro, and meet me at the scene?” His voice sounds like scratchy condescension. “Trust me, you need it.”

“Fine. Send me the address… and buy me a coffee on the way.”

I hang up before he can respond. Heading to the bathroom, I dry-chew three aspirin and start the shower.

All right, you son-of-a-bitch. This time, we are gonna nail your ass to the wall.

(2)

The 305 is always full this time of day, but it’s still faster than trying to take the surface streets. As I wait for my turn to load my car into the tube, I grab my folder tablet and pull up what information we have on Phantom.

It isn’t much.

The MESH system has been live now for 10 years, and according to the party line, everyone in the country is in the system. Certainly everyone who uses a bank, pilots a vehicle, receives deliveries, or attends school is registered, as are all babies born since the Universal Identification and Registration Act was passed and the MESH system was turned on. The UIRA also made MESH registration mandatory for all prisoners, immigrants, and those in the military and federal services.

The upside of MESH is that it has reduced crime exponentially, and usually makes my job easier.

Usually.

In fact, until this Phantom appeared, and the bodies started piling up, I’d had one of the best solve rates on the force, and being part of the Syntonago Police Department, means that is a big deal. We process more crimes every day than most monocities see in a week. The megabuildings are bad, but tough times are always worse in the big sprawling cities.

The case file is pretty thin. We’ve found 31 bodies, all over Syntonago, and we don’t have much more than the victims names and MESH profiles. I swipe through the list, unable to find any kind of pattern to them all.

Come on Mac, you can do this. There has to be a pattern in here somewhere.

The jolt of my vehicle being tubed up breaks my concentration, so I turn off the screen and close the folder. According to the dash, I have four minutes until insertion, then twelve minutes on the 305 before ejection and deposit at Fullbright station, about 3 miles from the alley where the latest victim was discovered.

I need a vacation.

Don’t get me wrong, I love being a detective in the SPD. Having everyone cataloged and identifiable by any and every vid source in the country means it is very rare for someone to get away with any crime, let alone murder.

Or 32 murders.

Somehow, this Phantom has done just that. The vics started showing up about two years ago, and the MO is always the same. The bodies are found in blind spots, and there is never any sign of anyone coming or going in the vicinity. Some of them have been found between businesses, with full vid coverage at both ends of the alley.

This guy, this Phantom, seems to be invisible to vid, in spectral bands ranging from infrared to ultraviolet, including wavelengths humans couldn’t see.

Eventually, he is going to screw up, and I plan on being there when he does. As my vehicle accelerates for insertion into the 305 stream, I close my eyes and try to relax; maybe this hangover will evaporate. They usually do.

Except when they don’t.

(3)

The biggest drawback to MESH, is it has made investigators complacent. Budget cuts mean the few of us who are left pull a lot more cases. Even though 90% of crimes are solved by pulling up a DCR MESH report, it still leaves a lot of cases to be worked.

Usually, solving a murder case is just a matter of tracking down those who are scanned on vid near a scene, and there is almost always DNA that MESH can use to identify and track down perpetrators in real time.

Not this Phantom though. He has never shed a drop of organic material at a crime scene, nor have we ever found any forensic evidence to tie anyone to the bodies.

Hopefully today will be the day we do.

Then God said, “Let us (emphasis mine) make mankind in our (emphasis mine) image, in our (emphasis mine) likeness, so that they (emphasis mine) may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them (emphasis mine); male and female he created them.

Just how many people are talking about here? One God ("our image," "our likeness," "they may rule...").

What Does Gender Feel Like? God created them--Mankind.

One possible interpretation is that God is a hermaphroditic entity, with the combined elements of all genders. It is this longing for completeness, to achieve the most God-like reasssembly into that image and likeness, that drives the urge of one gender for the other. And in doing so, the experience sublimates into deific proportions. If God is Love, then the union of man and woman, in love, is self-explanatory. And God-like. There is nothing more powerful than "I am."

What about one gender's urge for the same gender? Is any love, God-like in any perspective, a violation of this chemistry? Simply, no. Love, God-like, is an absolute means and an end, existing outside of time simultaneously, like the hermaphroditic creature God is. Love is His/Her apotheosis, no matter how it comes to be.

For those who invoke the Bible to condemn what they see as aberrant, I only need to remind them of what looks, initially, like a grammatical error in agreement, in Genesis: God created mankind in their own image, in the image of God he created them. Anything less is just self-love (i.e., incomplete), and it cannot serve as justification for defining love in terms of exclusivity.

As long as there are urges between/among genders--and love--God will always be involved. And at work. And if there is no God, what a terrible waste of love's omnipotence!

Just sayin'.