The boy would never know these memories. Watching his father’s face he saw the deep creases above his forehead, his narrowed eyes and his stubbled jaw, constantly chewing on something ...
Smile. Everyone would agree that a smiling person is far more approachable than a gloomy and surly one.
...
I bet you never thought you’d be hearing this from a dead girl.
...
After the breakup, she couldn’t stop thinking about the spinach.
...
A story about the characters who work in a restaurant kitchen and the tensions and conflicts between them.
...
Imagine a cat, a stray, that became a woman every sunrise, a fierce black-haired woman named Lucia….
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Oxford, choked in an Edwardian haze, everything still there, waiting—
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He hadn’t slept in two days and held a human heart between his palms like clay.
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The voice of a twelve-year-old, as if it didn’t break properly all those years ago, although he’s not as old as you might be led to believe by all those ...
She longed to go outside and sit with her new tenant, Tom, but she restrained herself from doing so.
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He had lived there with his mother and father until he was eight years old. Then his mother and father were gone.
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I don’t feel the need to lie when she arches one eyebrow and says: “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
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Gaz has nabbed a road sign of a man digging a hole, Bilbo’s picked flowers but he won’t say why, and Matty’s filled his handbag with salt and pepper
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Over wire-rimmed glasses, Virginia Woolf peers down at the drawing, takes in the words, breathes in an imagined Argentinian starry sky.
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I scurried as fast as my feet could take me through the livin room, slidin on cool tiles and headed straight to my secret listenin spot cause I knew there ...
Normally, I ignored calls from numbers I didn’t recognise but twenty-two missed calls in the span of an hour was worrisome.
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A flock of swallows has just flown overhead. This is their time of night, just as dusk is beginning to deepen.
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I’m not used to this kind of attention from men. I’ve only been a woman, noticeably so at least, for a year, after all.
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She seems unaffected by the midges now, her light clothes flapping them away. It needles you, her comfort in surroundings that make you feel so out of place.
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The blossom’s winged petals flapped and flailed and stuck to the little bare legs and the new blue dress and that glossy hair, she winced. Stop, she wanted to shout. ...
