Author: Emily Taylor
The first day of winter began with a sour twist. Emily had work ahead, but the weather was miserable.
Margaret Whitmore sat in her rocking chair, knitting needles clicking softly in her hands. Nearby, on
The June Story It all began with a pair of children’s wellies, left to dry on the windowsill by my friend
**KATIE** Gary rushed out of his flat and hurried toward the corner shop, eager to make it before closing.
Tonight, I found myself lost in thought, the glow of passing cars painting streaks of light against the window.
Barbara clutched the test results in her fist, the paper damp with sweat. The hallway of the clinic was
A June Tale This story began when a pair of children’s wellies, which my friend Poppy had left drying
James sat in his armchair, staring blankly at the floor. His head throbbed from the argument, and anger
She was about to have a difficult talk. Outside the window, the lights of passing cars flickered, while