Author: Harlan Covington
“The removal men will be here in half an hour,” my husband James said, not meeting my eyes, fidgeting
So, you know what happened? Gary muttered to Rusty, “Come on then, mate,” as he fiddled with
**June 15th** James’s voice drifted from the bedroom: “Emily, is dinner ready?” It was one in the afternoon.
Thursday evening, another quiet one. Sitting by the window, I stare at the ad on my phone. The letters
Sometimes life throws up tales so strange you think they couldn’t possibly be true. But they are.
Estate agent Margaret Turner put the phone down and stared at it for several seconds, as though the handset
Victor found him by the roadside in October. The puppy sat on the edge of the highway, wet and very small
Clara Stevens had been feeding a stray German Shepherd at the entrance of her block of flats for a year
Margaret stood at the window, watching the frost paint patterns on the glass. They said minus thirty
Every evening this ginger cat would climb onto my balcony. She’d meow like she was begging for help –









