Polynesian mythology tells the tale of Pele, a tempestous Fire Goddess. Evie, young, wild and free is now living a new, simpler life in Tahiti with her documentary filming parents, but when one letter changes everything, she doesn't realise that her life is colliding with the one she studied for so long.

Evie was sprawled lazily on the sofa, bare feet hanging over the edge, eyes focussed on the television before her. The air was dry and ice cold, and the air conditioning vent pumped out more every second.

Licking her lips, Evie adjusted her position, pulling a cushion under her head.

The door banged. A swirl of fresh air blew in through the door, displacing the papers on the dining table and scattering across the floor. Evies mother tutted.

"Look at the state of you, Eve," she reprimanded her daughter, arms overflowing the papers she scooped off the floor. "Get up and help me with these."

Evie hauled her body off the sofa and picked up a stray sheet of paper. The heading was in a thick bold type, that read Université de la Polynésie Française.

She shuddered. Her mother peered over Evie's shoulder and tutted again. "Look at the price of this place," she said. "I hope your gratefull that we got you a space their."

"Studying literature." Evie pulled a face.  

"Not every university offers Mythology as a course, darling. At least your French is up to scratch." She began stacking the papers again on the table, and Evie watched her. "Here we are, living like kings in a Hotel-"

"Manava Suites Resort," Evie corrected.

"Yes, yes. In Punaauia. In Tahiti! I mean, just look outside, Evie! You can't hide inside and watch West Side Story for the sixtieth time!"

Evie walked over to the open front door and leaned out. Their suite backed right onto the water, which shimmered in that picture perfect, typically Pacific blue. Palm trees and plants that held huge, colourful blossoms crowded round the balcony, draping leaves into the water, creating smooth ripples.

The sun, a fiery inferno in the sky blazed in the sky, free of any clouds, baking the smooth white sand, the tanned holidaymakers, the dark skinned locals.

It really was paradise. "Our little bit of paradise," Evie murmered to herself. Her mother had wondered off, leaving her daughter to revell in the pure beauty of the island.

Evie was facinated with Mythology, and was reluctant to accept a life here in Tahiti without it. Literature was bearable, but nothing compared to the intricate tales told by people so long ago.

Polynesian mythology was especially interesting, Evie reminded herself as she settled in a chair by the water. She then chose a book at random from a stack on the table beside her, and opened it to the bookmarked page.

The tale of the Goddess of the Volcano. Evie turned her eyes down and began to read.

The End

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