Emily Taylor

*Diary Entry – Black Ink Stains on Old Letters* The letter arrived in a plain grey envelope, no return address.

One of those days when nothing aches—but everything weighs heavy. By the bus stop near the old market

**Inky Traces on Old Letters** The letter arrived in a plain grey envelope, with no return address.

When the Door Closed Without a Sound When the door slammed shut, Michael didn’t flinch. He sat on an

One of those days when it doesn’t ache—just gnaws. At the bus stop near the old market hall in Grimsby

There was this slightly crumpled sheet of paper lying in her desk drawer—right next to her resignation letter.

The Ink Stains on Old Letters The letter arrived in a plain grey envelope, no return address.

A Tough Decision. The Return “Go if you want,” said Oliver, placing his mug in the sink.

One of those days when it doesn’t hurt—just aches. At the bus stop near the old market square in Leeds

**How I Hated Her…** A slightly crumpled note lay in her desk drawer—right beside her resignation letter.