28October2025 My notebook, a rainspattered bench outside the little pastry shop on Abbey Road, Manchester.
Dear Diary, I have never loved a woman quite like I loved Victoria. Even after six years of marriage
The brides mother shoved me into the worst table with a sneering grin. Know your place, she said.
Dear Diary, I handed Blythe a bottle of water. She took it with trembling hands and stepped out of the car.
26April Ive never written a diary entry that began with a confrontation, but today forced my hand.
Dear Diary, Im Andrew, twentyfour when I tied the knot, and Emily was twentytwo. Shes the only child
Rain pattered against the sill of the little rented flat in Oxford. Andrew watched as the droplets traced
Emily, youll be the one to blame for his death! Whos to blame? Of course Tommy! Yes, you! Theres nothing
Excuse me, miss, could you buy a cake for the little girl? the ragged man called out, perched on the