For years, I was a quiet shadow gliding between the shelves of the grand city library. Year after year
Margaret Evelyn was jolted awake at three in the morning by the persistent vibration of her old-fashioned
How can the earth bear such mothers! She sent her child to an orphanage because she wouldn’
Long, long ago, Emily desperately hoped to find a good husband. She had already experienced what it was
My sister-in-law spent her summer holidays at a seaside resort while we were knee-deep in renovations
How can the earth bear such mothers! She sent her own child to a care home because she didnt want to
Cut to the Quick…
In This Family, Everyone Was Out for Themselves
Dad Alex had a wife at home, but also a string of girlfriends—never the same one for long. Mum Jenny turned a blind eye to her husband’s infidelity, yet she wasn’t exactly a model of virtue herself, enjoying after-work escapades with a married colleague. Their two sons were virtually left to fend for themselves; nobody really bothered to raise them, so they mostly just drifted about. Jenny insisted that school was completely responsible for her children’s upbringing.
This family only gathered in the kitchen on Sundays for a silent, rushed meal before quickly scattering to their own worlds. They kept muddling along in their own flawed, sinful, oddly sweet reality—until one day, something irreversible happened.
…When the younger son, Danny, was twelve, Dad Alex took him to the garage for the first time to help out. While Danny pottered about with tools, Alex nipped off to chat with mates tinkering with their cars nearby.
Suddenly, black smoke gushed from Alex’s garage, followed by flames. (Later it turned out Danny had accidentally knocked a lit blowtorch onto a petrol can.) People froze, confused. The fire raged. Someone threw a bucket of water over Alex, who dashed into the inferno. Seconds later, he stumbled out, carrying his limp son. Danny was badly burned—only his face untouched, likely protected by his hands. His clothes had melted away.
Firefighters and paramedics arrived. Danny was rushed to hospital—alive, but just.
He was taken straight to surgery. After agonising hours, the doctor emerged and said flatly:
“We’re doing all we can. Your son is in a coma—his chances of survival are one in a million. If Danny finds an extraordinary will to live, perhaps there may be a miracle. Be strong.”
Without hesitation, Alex and Jenny dashed to the nearest church. The heavens opened in a torrential downpour, but they barely noticed the storm—or anything else. They had to save their boy!
Soaked through, Alex and Jenny stepped inside the chapel for the first time in their lives. Spotting the priest, they timidly approached.
“Father, our son’s dying—what do we do?” sobbed Jenny.
“I’m Father Simon. So—it takes a crisis to bring you here?” the priest replied, getting straight to the point.
“No, not really. We haven’t killed anyone,” Alex muttered, eyes down under Father Simon’s piercing gaze.
“But you’ve killed love, haven’t you? It’s lying cold between you. Where true husband and wife once stood as one, now you could lay a cedar log between you—no connection left! Ah, people…
Go and pray to Saint Nicholas for your son’s recovery! Pray earnestly! But remember, everything is in God’s hands. Sometimes the Lord wakes the careless with tragedy. Otherwise, you’d never understand! Save your souls—through love, all is redeemed!”
Alex and Jenny, dripping rain and tears, stood like two miserable ducklings before Father Simon, hearing truths too bitter to ignore.
Father Simon pointed them to the icon of Saint Nicholas.
Kneeling before the image, Alex and Jenny sobbed, prayed desperately, vowing to change their ways, abandoning all affairs and reviewing every thread of their past lives…
The next morning, the doctor called: Danny had woken from his coma.
Alex and Jenny sat at their son’s bedside. Danny opened his eyes and tried to smile at his parents, but the expression was etched with suffering.
“Mum, Dad—promise me you’ll never split up,” he whispered.
“What makes you say that? We’re together,” Jenny replied, gently stroking his hand. Danny winced. She quickly pulled back.
“I saw it, Mum! And when I have children, they’ll bear your names too,” Danny murmured.
Alex and Jenny exchanged worried glances. Their son must be delirious, they thought: what kids? He’s bed-bound—just surviving would be a miracle.
…But from that moment, Danny began to recover.
All resources were poured into his treatment; the family sold their holiday home.
It was a pity the garage and car were lost to the flames—but most important, their son survived. Grandparents rallied around, doing everything they could.
The family was drawn together by shared tragedy.
…Even the longest day comes to an end.
A year passed.
Danny was in a rehabilitation centre, walking and managing on his own.
There, he met a girl named Molly—his age, also a burn victim. Molly’s face had been scarred in a fire. After multiple surgeries, she avoided mirrors, afraid of what she’d see.
Drawn to her quiet light, Danny found himself protective of this wise, gentle girl. They spent all their free time together, united by shared pain, courage, and favourite conversations. They had endured the same agonising treatments and now found solace in each other’s company.
Time went on…
Danny and Molly celebrated a modest wedding.
They had two beautiful children: a daughter, Charlotte, and three years later, a son, Jack.
At last, when the family seemed to find peace, Alex and Jenny decided to part ways. The ordeal with Danny had drained them; they could no longer stay together. Worn out, each yearned for their own space and some quiet.
Jenny moved to her sister’s in the countryside, but visited the church to seek Father Simon’s blessing before leaving. Over the years, she had come to thank him for saving her son, but Father Simon would only say:
“Thank God Himself, Jenny!”
He didn’t approve of her leaving.
“If you must, go and rest. Solitude is sometimes needed for the soul. But come back—husband and wife are one!”
Alex stayed alone in an empty flat. Their sons, now with families, lived apart.
Even visits to the grandchildren were scheduled so the former spouses wouldn’t run into each other.
In short, everyone finally found their own kind of comfort… RAW NERVE… In this household, everyone went their own way. Matthew, the father, had a fondness
Sarah stood by the open fridge, rubbing her temples. Her husband had eaten everything again.
I came to visit because I missed you, but children feel like strangers now. Parents always worry about
NEVER TOOK ANOTHER’S Looking back now, I remember school days, when Margaret held nothing but disdainand