Chapter Three:
Brutal Training

Devyn did not believe in easing Valerie into anything.

Mark Lansing never wanted to stand out. He was perfectly happy disappearing into a football huddle with the rest of the team until one play made him the talk of the town. Thrust into a spotlight he never wanted, every choice can reshape his future, and every decision could transform him in ways he never believed possible. Mark’s destiny will be determined on the field … assuming he can figure out how to dress the part.

Home at ten-thirty. Emily pays the cab while I get the keys. Inside, the house quiet - Jenna on the sofa with her phone, the monitor on the coffee table showing Theo's breathing steady and slow.

"He went down at nine," Jenna says. "Took the bottle fine."

Emily thanks her and counts out cash and I wait by the door. When Jenna's gone Emily sets the monitor to low and looks at the stairs.

"He'll wake in a few hours," she says. Not a complaint. Just the math of it, working out what the night holds. She takes her shoes off at the bottom of the stairs.

---

CHAPTER 4
“Anyway, what did Lynn say, Julia?”

I looked at her as she composed her thoughts, someone who had just shared the most literally horrendous personal information, and asked myself exactly how self-absorbed I must be. All of this was entirely down to me, in the end. Not Mary, not work, just me I wondered if there might be a way of rebottling the genie, for all of the very few seconds it took me to realise how stupidly unrealistic that thought was.

“Lynn? Oh, don’t worry. She didn’t spot a bra strap, or some unwiped mascara”

< It all started as the holiday from hell.

We were going on a three week holiday
to a villa in the hills of Spain away from the
tourist areas so that we could practice our
Spanish. We had been learning Spanish at
night school and we had decided to try to
speak only Spanish whilst we were on holiday.

It all started well until we were caught in
a traffic hold up on the M25. We therefore
arrived at Gatwick with only minutes to go
until the last check in time.

Next week is orientation for this year's new students, so here's something related.

A gala drawing gives Samantha a role Samuel never asked for: princess. But helping a frightened child may force him to see the experience differently.

CHAPTER 3
“Take a seat. Please”

He slumped into one of the armchairs, setting his briefcase upright on the floor beside him, where it promptly fell over.

“Harry… “

He stopped abruptly, looking down at his clenched hands, then slowly relaxed his fingers before looking back up at the two of us on the settee.

“There have been rumours, you know. I wasn’t sure… Short form, then. Mary, could I have that tea after all? Please?”

She brought an extra mug from the kitchen, and the three of us sat silently as she poured and handed him the cup.

“What do I call you? Harry seems a bit awkward”

“What everyone else does”

“Ellie? I always did wonder about why you pushed that one. Bit too glib, I thought, and I was right, wasn’t I? So, please, executive summary”

I looked quickly at my wife, then jumped in. Soonest humiliated, soonest over.

“Lots of cliché stuff, really, so I won’t go into the usual rigmarole”

Part 3 A Penny for them

We had the next three days to film the rest of the Friday story. On Tuesday morning, very early, we were filmed coming out of a door onto the street. The door had ‘Head Office’ on a sign over it. We all then went next door into an actual beauty salon which had the sign ‘Heavenly Bodies – Look like an Angel’.

Back in the industrial building I was shown a set I had not seen before. It was a mock-up of a salon, complete with hair-washing station, make-up station and a proper salon bed with adjustable height.

The Magician's Force

Author's note. This essay contains a discussion of abuse. please read with care

Dance, Dance, Dance, Amy

A Transgender Mythology Romantacy

A Lamur, GA, USA Novel

Chapter Seventeen: Crystal Echoes

By Gail Rose Landers

I found a jacket that remembers a missing girl, and it’s rewriting my body one day at a time. Now I have to solve that girl's murder before the coat finishes its work and I disappear into someone else’s life.

The Lois Einhorn Story
A Short Story inspired by an old Movie
By Maryanne Peters