Sammna & Porridge

Sammna stood on a hill overlooking the wall that separated the Female Enclave from the Male Enclave. Usually she was fascinated by the mysterious male area, but today she ignored their land. She strained to see the small blue V of ocean, visible between the folds of hills. At her side, her pet emcrit Porridge morphed to look like an eagle, its eyes fierce and sharp. The sea was the most exciting thing Sammna knew of—changeable but always there, promising adventure far away but always returning to shore. Today, however, the thick humid air obscured that tantalizing glimpse.

She folded her arms around her skinny frame and then, irritated by the feel of her breasts, dropped them again. Ever since her body had started changing, her discomfort about who she was had intensified. She had always been unsure, but now she felt wrong somehow. As her frustration rose, the emcrit shaded into a cranky hen, scolding and ruffling its feathers.  She reached down and smoothed its raised crest. Sammna sighed, releasing her irritation, and Porridge soothed into its natural shape. Its colourless fur lay shining and sleek along its back. It stood a little below her knee height. Porridge folded its six stubby legs under its long soft body and tucked its blunt nose into its chest. Soft snores whiffled the fur.

“Come on,” Sammna urged the somnolent beast as she turned away from the wall and began the long walk back up the road to the Core of the Female Enclave. “Hurry up, Porridge. I can’t be late for Temple.” Porridge looked up uncertainly. “It’s the memorial for our escape from the plague. You remember.” The emcrit shook its head. “No, you wouldn’t, I suppose. ‘The annual ceremony to celebrate the eradication of the heterosexually transmitted plague and the founding of the Enclave system which saved humanity,’” she recited. “I don’t know how many centuries ago, but you’d think they’d be over it by now.”   Porridge reflected her bored mood by making itself pale grey all over, and trundled after her.

She looked back toward the now invisible ocean.  “I might have a chance to go to the seaside if I could become male. And that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

Porridge nodded and grew an appendage that looked like a little furry penis between its last pair of legs. It rolled over, waving its limbs, and she laughed with genuine amusement.

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Penny Westhorp

Penny Westhorp

Penny Westhorp lives in Adelaide, Australia with her husband and two dogs. She left the professional article and journal editing business to launch her career into fiction. One piece of flash fiction was published in the January issue of In the Ranges. Currently, she is writing a dystopian trilogy and participates in a writing group. Her story, “Sammna & Porridge,” won first place in Metamorphose’s Kick-Off Contest in the Short Fantasy category.
Penny Westhorp

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