Harlan Covington

The night of my wedding was meant to be the happiest moment of my life. I sat at the dressing table

STARS SHOES Star was eleven years old and walked barefoot through the cobbled streets of Canterbury

**The Song That Never Played on the Radio** When Eleanor first stepped through the door of the village

THE BENCH OF THE MAN NOBODY SAW Every morning, as the first rays of sunlight brushed the rooftops of

In a cosy little café tucked away on Burton Street, squeezed between old red-brick houses and narrow

**The Quiet Battle** Emma lingered by the window a moment longer, watching the dusk settle over the rooftops

**London, 1971.** The city stirred beneath a blanket of grey morning mist. The streets glistened with

London, winter of 1991. The city stirred beneath a biting cold that seeped deep into the bones.

In a bustling English town, where hurried buildings seemed to race for the sky, impatient traffic lights

In the darkest, most forgotten corner of the citys animal shelter, where even the harsh fluorescent light