On tenterhooks, I wait for the postie to arrive. It's been weeks since I placed the order and I received a delivery notification this morning, stating that my parcel will arrive today. At various times throughout the day, I realise I'm holding my breath. I relax, let it out in a whoosh and take a… Continue reading Parcel
'I'm serious,' Mum said. She looked it. I'd never seen such concern writ large over her features. Her brow was tightly drawn, her eyes dark and cloudy. Her lips were a thin, taut line. In contrast, I was all dumbfounded shock. My mouth was gaping open while I thought of something to say. But how… Continue reading Misha’s Dad
When Fiona walks in to take her seat at the front, the heat of a thousand gazes burns her skin. She used to know these people well. But she keeps her head low, careful to avoid anyone's eyes. The guilt of the past hangs heavy on her shoulders. It was here, in this very room… Continue reading Small Town Grieving
Pete's initial call rang out over two weeks ago. His party of decade was planned and ready. Invitations would follow via email in the next few days. It was a rainy, grey morning when Hillary opened her invitation. It had arrived in her inbox overnight. She stared at the words, trying not to feel superior… Continue reading To party or not to party?
The photograph left Misha with no doubt: she was now officially old. Staring into the mirror, she compared versions of herself. The photo taken thirty years ago showed her bright eyes, and high cheekbones; her skin taut and rosy. Now, she was all crinkly around the edges, had jowls, and her skin was papery, and… Continue reading Surrendered