Walton Merritt

Can you hear me? His voice was quiet, almost apologetic. Almost. Helen, Im talking. Can you actually hear me?

Three New Keys Saturday, October 14th I was at the hob in my old dressing gown, stirring my porridge

The Red Ribbon Helen stood at the cooker and watched as steam gently curled up from the pot of porridge oats.

The lump in Katherines throat formed even before she had the chance to place her mug on the table.

Empty Space Youve become an empty space, Angela. Understand? Empty. Space itself. He said it levelly

A Ring on the Tablecloth No, John said, and the word was so ladenso sharpthat I stopped right in the

A Letter to Myself The envelope was orangea bright, almost ludicrous brightnesslike a tangerine against

For twelve years she looked at me as if I were a stranger. Then, at the wake, my husband opened her jewellery

The Scent of a Care Home Do you know what you smell like? he asked. Like an old folks home.

Mum Kate Whats that noise youre making? Splashing everywhere! Its damp enough outside as it is, and here