“Happy birthday dear Priya,” everyone sings, at the prompting of the Indian girl’s middle-aged father. “Happy birthday to you!” Priya blushes as she holds her long black hair out of her face, before blowing out the fifteen candles on her rich chocolate cake.

“Fifteen years old,” Mr. Malik says with palpable pride. “I almost can’t believe that my little girl is really growing up.”

“Dad!” Suriya says, making everyone giggle.

“’Little’, not ‘littlest’!” Mr. Malik says, making both Priya and Suriya blush.

"Aah..." I moan, hissing with pain as sensation returns to my body- the primary sensation being pain. Pain in my mouth, under my arm, my head, my stomach... But the worst pain is in my groin.

"Stuart?" A familiar female voice calls. "Stuart? Can you hear me?"

Jessica smiled for the passengers as they disembarked the plane, stretching their tired muscles after the long flight from Madrid.

“Thank you for flying with Soixante-Trois Airlines,” Jessica gushed in her practised overly-saccharine ‘stewardess’s voice’. “Enjoy your stay in London!”

“I live here, you dumb valley girl,” one of the passengers snorted as he passed Jessica with a backward glance.

I have a wide grin on my face as I hold up the small, brightly-coloured CD case, turning my face so that each of the cameras can get a clear view of me- and, of course, the CD, which is the real star of the show.

Typical me, always getting into arguments.

My name is Tim. I'm a senior in high school. This is the story about the time I took things too far.

I was on the basketball team at my high school. Recently, we had lost a game because of miscommunication. This was largely because of the cheerleaders. They were at fault because we couldn't hear over them. I chose to bring this up to Rachel, the head cheerleader.

"It wasn't our fault." She claimed.

"Yea it was. We couldn't hear each other over your stupid cheers," I rebutted.

I gently lower myself into one of the sofas in Charlotte’s vast ‘main room’, taking the weight off my aching feet before slipping off my stiletto heels and massaging the soles of my feet.

“Don’t let Hannah ever catch you doing that,” Viks giggles as she sits down next to me. “Unless you plan on going on Strictly yourself next year…”

“If they’ll have me,” I say, making Viks giggle.

“Why are you over here, anyway, and not with Sarah?” Viks asks. “Still falling out over what you were talking about yesterday?”

An aging overweight man who plays too much online gaming receives a gift from Freya, the
goddess of love, lust, beauty, sorcery, fertility, gold, war and death.

Freya's Gift

Chapter 5: Connecting to the Past Pt 1

from Freya's point of view:

“Three cheers for the college girls!” Charlotte announces. “Hip hip-“

“Hooray!” The modest number of partygoers cheer.

“Hip hip-“ Charlotte repeats.

“Hooray!” The partygoers again reply.

“Hip hip-“ Charlotte yells at the top of her voice.

“Hooray!” The party goers again cheer as Sarah, Katie and Lauren stand at the front of the room, their cheeks burning with embarrassment.

A young woman is singled out of superherodom, but is having none of it. A group of teenagers disturb a malicious spirit. A radical plan to improve the American political process. Hit play on the last TG Mixed Tape for 2015 for all these stories and more, featuring contributions from Efindumb, Ellie Dauber, Desert Willow, Misaania, Jenny North, Callie Messenger, Person42, Hikaro, Shauna, Trismegistus Shandy, kandijayne, Desert Willow and Anon Allsop

I smirk as I rush into the generously-sized dance studio that has been Krystie's second home for almost two years. Between the ages of 4 and 10, I would find myself in such a place twice a week, with my legs clad in the same pink tights and my body covered by the same style of leotard as the fifteen women currently dancing in the studio. Back then, I would have paid anything to never have to set foot in one of these places again, but today, someone else's needs come before my own.

"Oh, hi Stu!" Krystie teases. "Sorry, but today's class is GIRLS ONLY!"

“Extend,” Miss Fullerton advises. “Really stretch your leg out, see how it feels.” I comply, extending my leg to its fullest as my foot stretches downward, supporting my entire weight on the tips of my toes. Nicole, Harriet, Megan, Priya and Suriya all giggle as they watch me switch to my other foot, eventually standing en pointe on both feet in the brand-new shiny satin shoes.

“These still feel a little loose around my heel,” I say, earning groans from my friends- not to mention the gaggle of parents that are accompanying us- but an understanding nod from our ballet teacher.