The Writer’s Husband

'But Sam, you know Erica always uses real life situations and turns them into fanciful plots.' Sam is slumped over my dining table. I've never seen him so defeated, so deflated. He's usually upbeat, a devil-may-care type of bloke. 'True, Marcia. That's true.' He lifts his head from his arms, and begins to play with…

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Moving on

'The seeds are scattered in the field, Mum,' says Henry. My heart expands with pride. He's a good boy. Since his dad died, twenty months ago, he's stepped up to help me with all the farm work. 'Thanks Hen,' I say, patting him on the shoulder. He's only fourteen. He should be out with his…

The moment of realisation

Ellen checked her makeup. She fixed the collar on her shirt, then closed her compact mirror. With a sigh, she stepped into the lift and waited for the doors to close. Terrence was in Room 818, waiting for her. Funny how a string of text messages and a few phone calls had plunged her into…

Home Invasion

The panic is all up in my throat. I can't breathe through the lump there. I'm running. Fast as I can. Not ten minutes ago, I woke to a crash in my kitchen. My heart thudded against my rib cage; I sat up in the bed. Footsteps thumped. 'Oliver,' I whispered urgently. 'Wake up. There's…

Brekkie Time

It's 9.30am, about to have a lazy Sunday morning breakfast. I've already had one coffee, and T1 is making me another. Fine barista skills this boy, makes the milk as frothy as air. As for the strength of the coffee itself, well, that can be hit and miss. I don't complain; I figure I'm lucky…