My mother was strikingly beautiful, yet that seemed to be her only merit, as my father used to say.
Dear Diary, Tonight I finally put pen to paper about the past few months, hoping the act of writing will
Dont come around here any more, Dad, she whispered, eyes brimming. Whenever you leave, Mum starts crying
George Turner wasnt hated at the depot, he was simply avoided. He was a sensible man, an experienced
Mary Reynolds, an eightyfouryearold grandmother, was perched on the bus shelter just a stones throw from
Emily, dont rush. Think it over once more, urged Aunt Liz, her voice echoing like a faded lullaby in
The blast was deafening. A cloud of blackness swallowed the ward, then, slowly, the shadows began to
Tom, its a girl, 7.7pounds! Emily shouted into the phone, her voice trembling with joy. I stood beneath
15June Tonight the river still haunts me, its dark water a mirror for the thoughts I cannot shake.
The world around Evangeline was crumbling right beneath her crystal heels, and the exquisite glass in