Author: Harlan Covington
Dear Diary, 13July Mary, what about Brighton? Have you seen the prices? We agreed to tighten our belts
Dear Diary, Stay away from me! I never promised to marry you, and I dont even know whose child this is
Emilys husbands friend kept insisting on helping around the house, so I showed her the door.
Mrs. Whitfield, the motherinlaw snapped, stop calling me Mrs. Whitfield everything. It sounds like were
I still remember the day I snatched a spare set of keys from my motherinlaw after catching her asleep
I stopped ironing Simons shirts the day he called my whole day at home just sitting around.
10November2025 Dear Diary, She told me she was heading out on a work trip, yet I spotted my own car parked
The brides mother slid me into the worst table with a smug grin. Know your place, she whispered.
Rain pattered against the sill of the cramped twobed flat in Battersea. Andrew watched the droplets sketch
Granddad, eat! the little boy clutched at the coattail of the lanky, overcoated man, his hands trembling









