Fiction, Health and wellbeing, Melbourne, Relationship and marriage, Writing

At the hospital

Barb sits in the stark waiting area of the hospital. She checks her watch. Four hours. Two since someone had last slammed through those double doors and said anything about Mel's condition. Barb wonders why she's still there. She doesn't even know Mel. The doors swing open again. A doctor strides towards her. 'Barb? I'm… Continue reading At the hospital

Fiction, Health and wellbeing, Relationship and marriage, Writing

Walking Away

'I am overjoyed for you,' Maggie said with a smile. She was forcing it, she knew. Her tone of voice was wooden, the smile stiff and toothy. Milton didn't seem to have noticed though. He was busy preening. Pushing his hair back from his forehead. Smoothing his hands over his tight-fitting shirt. Chest out. Shoulders… Continue reading Walking Away

Family, Fiction, Melbourne, Parenting, Relationship and marriage, Writing

At the supermarket

Standing in line at the checkout, she is warm and her armpits damp, despite the chilly day and her coat and scarf. She holds her breath as she watches each item scanned, then placed in her bags by the operator. Her eyes flick to the screen. $45. Glancing along the conveyor belt, she nervously estimates… Continue reading At the supermarket

Fiction, Health and wellbeing, Relationship and marriage, Writing

Martha’s regret

Martha's face was red, she was panting from the exertion of yelling. She took some deep, calming breaths while watching Ted, who was pacing back and forth in their kitchen. Ted stopped. Turned to face her. 'You're NOT a psychologist,' he yelled. 'You dabble around on the internet and you think you have all the… Continue reading Martha’s regret

Family, Fiction, Melbourne, Parenting, Relationship and marriage, TV shows, Writing

Behind enemy’s door (short fiction)

With stealth, I pass through the open gate. I feel each heart beat like a strike on a timpany; it shudders to my core. I step towards the front door. Lift my hand to the brass knocker. My fingers are trembling, shaking. I take a deep breath, and remind myself this is my childhood home.… Continue reading Behind enemy’s door (short fiction)