The spherical bomb rolls slowly from my hand and explodes, as it hits the water. I gently push the robe off my shoulders and step into the fizzing bath. Me time. I turn off the taps, lower myself into the scented, steamy bubbles and relax. Calm, for the first time[…]
I know it’s not a real gangplank. It’s my backyard wall. I know the sword isn’t real. It’s the plastic one from the fair. But does Nick know? He’s blindfolded, hands behind his back, bound by my school tie. ‘Move, you lazy pirate,’ I shout. I prod him forward. He[…]
I light the match and immediately blow it out. Today there are 146 of them lying in formation, waiting their turn for the pyre. Later, I cram the burnt offerings into three matchbox coffins and record their numbers. 2936. 2937. 2938. I carefully place them on the crowded wooden table,[…]
The water rolls over the handprints, turning the bath into a ribbed battleground of fighting colours. I lie back and watch the patterns battle with each other, realising that oil paints, birthday invitation cards and a nearly one year old boy, are not the wisest of blends. However, this is[…]
He had promised her that he’d live until his 90th. The doctor sighed, lowered his head and closed the front door behind him. Slowly, she climbed back upstairs and entered their bedroom of seventy years. Her lips felt the cold of his forehead. ‘You promised not to die. You promised.’[…]
Your clothes are shredded and sitting in flimsy charity bags. Letters, turned to ash, like the empty promises they contained. My phone, scrubbed clean of photographs. Yet I still see you, haunting every crevice of my day. And at night, you innocently stroll around my dreams, oblivious of my nightmare.[…]
Carol carefully loads the old, wooden trolley. For the last time, she trundles her way to the far corner of the library, where the travel section sits. Before Joe’s illness, this was an area where she spent many lunch times, planning and dreaming. Asia; shelved. America; shelved. She turns back[…]
It only took them thirty minutes, to clear Vera’s home of 70 years. The man from Treasured Past was both professional and ruthless. He quickly decided whether it was skip or shop. Vera’s full life, rapidly emptied after death. Faded labels, hanging on some of the items, were ignored as[…]
This silence is new; one I’ve not heard before. He’s communicating in a different language. Before today, I’ve managed to translate all my husband’s silences. There are so many. Silence of ignoring. Muzzled boredom. Wordless sulking. Fingered sign language. And the classic; storming away and feigning a loss of hearing.[…]
I’d made it invincible. High walls, studded with ribbed shells, reinforced with wooden lolly sticks. Colourful plastic flags, unmoved by the stiff breeze, supported the central tower. The deep moat added further re-enforcement. Dad stood over my masterpiece and stared out at the rapidly encroaching sea. Any fears of destruction[…]