“You can’t change your mind once the tattooist has finished,” my friend said. “Don’t worry,” I replied. “This is forever.” LOVE YOU GAZ was permanently inked. Other people had chosen flimsy butterflies or red roses; things that die. Gaz is alive. Well, he was when I saw him last month.[…]
Dorothy waves her hands in the air, trying to catch her granddaughter’s attention. Sal is only at the other side of the front-room, but to Dorothy it feels far more distant. Eventually, Sal looks up from her phone, returns the wave and gives her grandma a generous smile. “What do[…]
We all are aware of the empty chair near the window. Quickly slurping our coffees, we’re eager to get back to the safety of our homes. I am the first to stand. Struggling into my coat, I say, “See you next month,” more in hope than with any confidence. Published: Vine Leaf Press
“It is a perfect drying day,” I say quietly to myself, as I walk back towards the house. Laughing inwardly, I remember how my mother had used that exact same phrase so many times. Every Thursday morning she’d be busy in the kitchen, keeping a watch on me and the[…]
His breath tickled my ears when he whispered: ‘You know, I used to be the world champion.’ Grandad put a slightly crooked finger to his lips, as if preventing the cheeky smile from escaping. His declaration wasn’t a great surprise to me. However well I played, he would always beat[…]
Steve recognises Jill’s voice before he sees her. She’s over in the far corner, sitting on a high, brown stool. A ‘Fifty Today’ sash is clinging precariously to her jiving shoulders. He watches her slide off the seat and shimmy to the centre of the crowd. During their three years[…]
Mondays she waters his Kentish Palm that sits central on the windowsill. On the first of the month she always adds a sprinkling of plant feed. Daily she watches the pointed shiny leaves, laced with metallic greens, cast sundial shadows. They drift slowly across the magnolia walls and creep effortlessly[…]
It was a stupid mistake. I should not have taken the canal shortcut. Not at this time of night. Three shadowy figures, lurking by the footbridge, shuffle in the darkness. Their voices float eerily over the water; deep and threatening. I could turn back, but surely they have spotted me.[…]
I am definitely not one of those women who like to stare through rusty mesh fences at building sites, watching new office blocks sprout out of the ground. Yet today, I find myself standing in Sea Lane, gazing at a young lad digging a small hole by the edge of[…]
He can’t see me from where he’s standing. I’m in the perfect position, hidden behind the laminated table menu. His blue striped shirt, which I washed and ironed yesterday, is sticking to his chest, the top three buttons all undone. A flame theatrically explodes and lights up the kitchen area.[…]