Emily Taylor

Back in that winter long ago, which still comes to mind with a certain clarity, the season seemed determined

As I sit down to write in my diary today, I find myself recounting the events surrounding my sister Emily

The lad didnt bother with knocking. He sprinted. The door banged wide so hard it ricocheted off the wall

I recall the story my wife Laura shared with me about how her daughter Emily pushed her to find a new husband.

In the soft blur of a dream where rooms breathed like living things and shadows stretched into forgotten

She nearly carried on walking. Just another lad. Another tale. Just another moment to leave behind.

She very nearly walked on by. Just another lad, she thought. Another tale she didnt need to hear.

Looking back through my diary, I recall the remarkable story of how my wife Emily transformed her life

It all began with a promise, you know? Richard paced back and forth in the drawing room, rain beating

Emily stood at the cooker, lazily stirring the soup in the pot. She had only just got back from her shift.