Author: Harlan Covington
Diary Entry: Tuesday, 28th March Susan Williams cornered me by the post boxes downstairs this morning
I recall Albert Whitaker once slammed a paper onto the kitchen table, his fist thumping the wood. “
Margaret Davies had just pulled on her nightgown and was plaiting her hair when the telephone shrilled.
The Flat That Stole Our Peace “Emily! Em, where are you?” Arthur Bennett’
Emma stood before the mirror in her white dress, scarcely believing how things had unfolded.
Victor folded his newspaper, the sharpness of Margaret’s voice still hanging in the air. She stood rigid
Eleanor stands at the kitchen window, chewing a piece of stale bread and butter, gazing at the neighbouring garden.
**Friday, 19th May** Honestly, I despised my sister since we were girls. “Don’t you dare
A dull, throbbing headache anchored Helen Davies to the bed as heavy exhaustion consumed her.