Author: Harlan Covington
Two years ago I had it all a wife, a home, plans for the future, a sliver of hope. Now theres nothing
25May2026 Dear Diary, *Ill be there for you, Ill help you*, he promised, his voice steady, his eyes honest.
After a handful of dates, the 45yearold woman asked me over to her flat. By the time we sat down to eat
**Diary 2October** I first came across the little stray on an autumn road in October. A shivering, halfgrown
Show me your countryside, Margaret Whitfield said with a smile as she crossed the threshold of the spacious
Well, Rusty, shall we go, then? Victor muttered, tightening the makeshift leash fashioned from an old
**Diary 12April** Im James Whitaker, fiftytwo, divorced for fifteen years and settled enough to consider
I was sixtysix, and all my life I had clung to the conviction that family was the most precious thing on earth.
The door swung open and, once again, Mum and her flatmate arrived together with some other bloke.
I once enjoyed a pictureperfect marriagea caring husband and two little girls, Emily and Charlotte.









