A recipe for disaster. Take a spicy, young couple. Slowly sprinkle in two pieces of well seasoned baggage. Smother with a large debt, line with bank statements and layer with a redundancy notice. Stir in generous amounts of undiluted alcohol. Dust with an unpeeled lie. Grind in an affair. Bring[…]
It is clear that your mother has been back again, with another bunch of cheap flowers and her roll of Sellotape. It is not the original lamppost. The council had quickly removed the remnants of that one. The replacement one is now mummified by your mother’s tape. Scarves and shirts have[…]
Big trouble was surely heading my way, if Dad ever found out. Not that he even liked Smokey that much. But he sure wouldn’t tolerate any cruelty towards her. And, to be honest, I didn’t really feel I was being cruel, as I dangled her over the steamy bath. It[…]
I am so worried about it. The teachers’ negative reactions. The lowering of grades. The friends’ false sympathy and secret mirth. Do these educators realise how stressful all this is? Do they know that school just doesn’t work at home? And, do they see me crying over the empty screens?[…]
She didn’t approve. Betty had said to him, in no uncertain terms, that he was far too old to buy a driverless car. He argued that not having to worry about driving would mean less stress on his weak heart and he’d have the freedom to go wherever he wanted.[…]
When the escalator drops me at the top, I will be at my life’s lowest point. The smoothly passing world does not calm my rioting mind. Ellie is just in front of me. The last time we’ll be physically close. She leaps off and crashes straight into him. He is[…]
Dear Mum, I don’t think that Aunt Jen planned to tell. It was an accident. Our family is prone to accidents, as you know. We were on our way back from ‘Your Lamp Post’. It was our twenty first monthly visit. Twenty one times we had been there since the[…]
I retired last year and decided to move house. You need a project when you suddenly find that you have time on your hands. Packing up the office/back bedroom was easy; bin bag everything. Loading up my fifth plastic sack, I noticed the ‘Letters Folder’, tucked in a long-ignored curriculum[…]
Dear Sammy, So Sammy, there you are again, standing outside her office door, waiting for permission to enter. The blood on your shirt and mud on your face shows another chapter in the story of ‘Sad Sammy’s life at school’. Your presence in the staffroom corridor was also another excuse[…]
Dear Mr Wayne Lee, So, Mr Lee, you felt that I was mistaken to send your son off for violent conduct? Maybe you don’t think there is anything wrong with your Mike kicking St John’s goalie, pushing him on the ground and then jumping up and down on him. Their[…]