La vida

I recall that drizzly autumn day as young Edward argued with Mother at our Hackney window. “

**Saturday, 10th November** Sorting Victor’s things today, I found the box again. Tucked beneath old

**Thursday Evening** My Evelyn stood before the mirror, adjusting a blouse she’d snatched in a sale. “

The baby’s wails cut through the cramped airplane cabin, sharp and relentless. Heads turned, sighs hissed

**Alice.** Old Edna wiped tears from her pale, wrinkled cheeks, her hands fluttering like a restless child’s.

Your mum’s away for a whole month? Well, I’m off to mine then,” Emily said, already standing there

**Diary Entry – March 16th** Found myself sorting through Aunt Margaret’s things after she passed.

Margaret Davies studied her reflection, adjusting her grey suit. Today was Lottie’s thirtieth birthday.

Henry Whitfield loved his balcony, especially on Friday mornings when the city below was still grinding

**Entry from Margaret Wilson’s Journal, 10th May** I adjusted my tweed suit jacket before the hallway mirror.