Emily Taylor

“Mum, please stop!” Edward spun sharply from the window where he’d been watching passing cars.

So Mum, stop it already,” Oliver snapped, turning from the window where he’d been watching

Betty Smith was tidying her deceased husband’s things when a graduation photo slipped from a dusty box.

The visitors arrived unexpectedly, and Margaret frowned. She was overjoyed to see her son, but that dragonfly

Richard Taylor straightened his grey suit before the mirror. His daughter Emma turned thirty today.

Eleanor Crawford was packing old photographs into a box when she found the picture from her graduation dance.

**Friday, 11th May** Looked myself over in the mirror this morning, adjusting the grey suit jacket.

“Irene, love, do explain this to me?” Valentina stood on the threshold, a string bag in hand

Irene stirred her cooling tea as raindrops streaked the kitchen window like silver tears. On her doorstep

**Diary Entry – February 12th** Helen sat by the window, watching the street below. Buses wheezed