Author: Harlan Covington
15 June 2025 Tonight I finally put pen to paper about what happened at the corner shop on Church Street.
I was on a family holiday in England with Tom, our two boys Jack and Harry, and I thought everything
I still recall the day my aunt, Margaret Whitfield, bequeathed her modest cottage to me, a gesture that
“It doesn’t matter who tended to Nana!” my mother roared, her voice cracking against
Eleanor Whitaker, 60, has been living solo in a modest flat in the heart of London for as long as anyone
We have two children, but it feels as if our parents love only one of us. From an early age I sensed
Emily and I married just over ten years ago. We were both in our mid thirties thenmy husband, Mark, was
I drove my little girl, Poppy, to his flat in Croydon for the weekend, and that was the last time I saw Mark.
I took my wedding frock coat out of the wardrobe and an envelope slipped onto the carpet. I lay awake
It was a sudden proclamation, the moment he said he would take on the bulk of the wedding costs, leaving









