Tag Archives: her

So Much Fun

Posted on by under 2025, August 2025 - Persuasion

As Rupa chugged the remnants of her Singha beer she caught sight of her inner arm tattoo and involuntarily winced with regret. The faded unicorn, a hazy reminder of a debauched weekend in Budapest with her bestie Ruby, who had the tattoo mirrored on her inner thigh.

“Who wears it best?!” they would often exclaim in unison. Rupa could never admit that she loathed it, seeing the unicorn as an emblem of her vulnerability, rather than a symbol of friendship. Rupa’s mother called Ruby ‘a bad influence’, whereas Rupa thought Ruby was ‘so much fun’. Collectively they were referred to by various monikers – the Ru Sisters, Ru Squared, Ru to the power of two or the more pedestrian Double Trouble.

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Try and Drink a Little Less

Posted on by under 2025, August 2025 - Persuasion

Her body shook, her legs trembled, her nerves were precious plates in unsteady hands about to fall to the floor. She must somehow keep a lid on it all.

            A medic in a white coat came out. The crowd waiting in A & E became alert. ‘Angela Phillips?’ the white coat said. ‘That’s me,’ she mumbled and they all stared at her, a sick, grey-haired woman

            ‘This way,’ she was told. Fifty pairs of eyes followed her out of the cramped room.

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Open To Persuasion

Posted on by under 2025, August 2025 - Persuasion

Carefully opening her eyes, Holly had a head full of bees. The noise bounding around, clanging, forced her bolt upright. It wasn’t a dream, she was in a cell!!

The smell of urine caused her to gag. There was a toilet in the corner, the sight of which made her retch even harder. Slowly her memory returned in flashes .

Shawna again, why did she always go along with her wild ideas? It had been the same when they were in college .

The trip to the woods ended in a bog, then to add insult to injury a branch swung back and a black eye for Holly, with Shauna laughing her head off. A night on a pub crawl, Holly woke up in a bush on the prom, no sign of  Shauna. Apparently she thought Holly looked so peaceful, she left her there. Getting caught trying to sneak into a posh nightclub, ejected by the scruff of their necks. The list was endless but this was the last straw. No more!

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Mei Myself I

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

Standing before the bathroom mirror she was startled by the shadow behind her

Mei always felt something was missing.

Mei 美 meant ‘beautiful’ in Mandarin, which she thought both cruel and comical as Mei felt anything but. Western beauty standards reared their ugly head during teenagehood, sparking a yearning for longer legs, wider eyes and fairer skin. A well disguised eating disorder joined the party.

The bathroom mirror continued to tell and withhold her secrets. A sallow complexion, a haunted stare. A half visible shadow emerged to her right

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Do Not Look Into … The Mirror

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

The man studied the screen to watch and absorb all of the horrors unfold right in front of his eyes.

To the left he sees a woman silently screaming at the top of her lungs, a hammer enters into the shot. With one felled swoop the hammer strikes into the womans left temple, with a violent shuddering her expression is rendered lifeless and almost blank. The wall beside her and even the screen the man is viewing are stained with fresh blood splatter. The man staggers backward too disgusted to keep his eyes open yet so morbidly intrigued he peeks. Then the nausea hits him and he viscously wretches as the slight contents of his stomach exit his mouth. Feeling a slight wave of physical relief the man lays his head down on

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Green Blob in Mirrorland

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

The girls’ toilets were the best place to avoid PE lessons and the odd double maths period. Here Nettie could read, sing in the tiled echo chamber, attempt new hairstyles and, best of all, try to figure how many times she was reflected in the mirrors on opposite walls.  It was impossible to count, each iteration was smaller than the last.  The opposing mirrors made a thing of wonder for Nettie. If she waved, all the  Netties did the same, exact but diminished.

At home Nettie tried the same effect with two of her bedroom mirrors. It was less stunning than the school arrangement and Nettie’s friends weren’t awestruck. Their main concern was the amount of time Nettie spent in front of her mirrors.

            ‘Come on Nettie, let’s go out for a walk and get some chips.’

Suzie, the best mate, rarely failed to get a response to the chips lure.

            ‘Nah, I got loads of homework to finish . You go and enjoy my share’.

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Staves

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

A 92-year-old woman in Maespoeth has been found dead. Police have arrested a man, 64. They said the woman and man were known to each other and have described it as a ‘very sad case’. Valleys Radio news website.

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Perkins looks at himself in the dresser mirror. The lines on his forehead remind him of the staves on a sheet of music. He’s a semi-professional bass player, makes a bit of living from it. Those days are over now. He pulls out his mobile and taps 999.

Latterly it’s been tough. The privatised caring company, profit before people, make their first visit at eleven in the morning. No good at all that. So he’s been getting her up, showering her, changing her himself. He sort of switches off when he does it, same as when you accompany an uninspiring melody. He just makes out he is himself a paid carer, dealing with somebody else’s mother, not thinking it odd that he’s washing the naked, broken body of an elderly female. Switched off yet kind, that’s the way he does it.

‘Which service?’ the voice on his phone says.

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Wannabe

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

That old ad is doing the rounds on social media again. It has always haunted me, but after the day I’ve had at work, I’m regretting my life choices more than ever. I indulge myself by dialling the number.

“Is it too late?” I’ll say. I sigh when a recorded message tells me that my call cannot be connected. 

            I know exactly where I was on Friday 4th March 1994. It was mum’s fortieth birthday, so I had trudged into town after sixth-form college to browse the shops for a gift.

            The mirror had caught my eye immediately amongst all the other bric-a-brac, emitting a soft golden glow under the lights. It had been relegated to the back of a shelf behind five dusty dolls, which I ceremoniously brushed aside.

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Blink

Posted on by under 2025, July 2025 - The Mirror

“Did you see that?”

The man before me was a horror. It’s pale face was twisted in anguish like a Halloween mask held to the fire. It scratched at it’s scalp, at the visible, glistening wounds that ran like muddy rivulets between tuffs of matted hair. It’s eyes, milky and dull, were set deep into it’s skull. It’s jaw hung slack. Teeth haphazardly stacked like a tombstone lying abandoned upon a vandalised grave. A monster. Always watching. I hated it.

What was it’s intentions?

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The Messenger

Posted on by under 2025, June 2025 - Sacrifice

The robin is perched on the railing of the balcony outside. I can tell without even looking out there. I’d know its song anywhere, though I wouldn’t have expected to see one here, at this time of year, and in this idyllic holiday cottage where I’m staying. I smile to myself and finish making my morning coffee. I picked up these coffee beans in the local market yesterday, and their chocolate-rich aroma fills my nostrils as I stir in the milk, the spoon jangling pleasingly against the china cup.

A robin used to arrive in our garden every year on the anniversary of Grandma’s death when I was a child. Mum would ask me to help write a newsletter for the bird to take to her, wherever she was, updating her on all that we had been up to that year. I used to love sticking in photos and drawing pictures of all the activities we had done and all the holidays we had been on.

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I’ll Sacrifice Sid

Posted on by under 2025, June 2025 - Sacrifice

            ‘Morning, my lovely, I’m campaigning on behalf of the Resettlement party. You’ve heard of us? But of course. Who hasn’t? We’re setting the pace, aren’t we? We’re on all the front pages. Can Resettlement rely on your vote?’

            ‘Well I don’t rightly… I mean who are you going to…?’

            ‘If you’re born here, you’re OK. You’re in, you’re one of us.’

            ‘And if you’re not…?’

            ‘You’re looking at a package to help you return from whence you came. A tidy sum.’

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WHAT IF?

Posted on by under 2025, June 2025 - Sacrifice

Opening the curtains Anna looked out on a kaleidoscope of colour: the perfect day, the birds awakening, a flurry of sleepy tweets, trees rustling .

Climbing back into bed she sighed in relief. Six in the morning and since her mother’s death there was no hurry now to start her day. Turning on her clock-radio a distant memory wrapped around her, a favourite song of her and Joe. She cried, recalling all the hurt of her choices.

In Sydney, Australia Joe Harvey sat looking through the family album. Jan, his wife, had passed away some time ago. Living on his own was hard, he missed the companionship. Out of nowhere a shaft of misery drove deep into him. A name popped into his mind, consoling, one that he had buried long ago.

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She Wanted More

Posted on by under 2025, May 2025 - The Party

Honeysuckle Kumar wanted More. More of what, she was not quite sure. Perhaps more space to figure it all out.  

Theoretically Honey (as she was known as to friends and family) had Enough and should have Nothing to Complain About. A high earning husband, a software developer who took his role of provider seriously. Twins, Hari and Jasmin, who recently took up places at good universities. The mortgage on their detached three bedroom house in a middle class (albeit boring) area was paid off.

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Carol and the Case of the Suspicious Neighbours

Posted on by under 2025, May 2025 - The Party

“We’ve been infiltrated,” said Carol, scanning the assembled members of the W.I. “I saw our cake recipe on Val Clark’s shopping list in Tesco this morning.”

“But… it’s only a Victoria Sponge!” said Julie.

Carol flung her arms in the air. “How many times do I have to say it? Use the code name!”

It was fair to say that former Superintendent Carol was finding retirement a struggle. It had only been six weeks but already she was exasperated.

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Rat Poison

Posted on by under 2025, April 2025 - The List

HOUSEHOLD

?Rat Poison?

Tilly had forgotten her specs. She hadn’t transferred them from the pocket of her winter fleeced Danimac to her summer cotton jacket. Always the same with April weather in Swansea; an overnight rise of 8 degrees meant searching out the summer wardrobe with the risk of  a disruption in “ the system.” House keys, shopping list, pouch containing store cards and bus pass were in the left pocket as usual, but no glasses.

“Mum your phone should be in a separate pocket from keys. The screen could get scratched” Moira’s words. 

Having a “system” was as important as having a shopping list … and being able to see, Tilly’s thoughts reposted.

“Never get your phone out in public.” her daughter’s words again.

Well Tesco’s <Household> aisle is hardly The Kingsway,

Tilly acted. Needs must. The snufflings, rustlings and scratchings from the bedroom next door were getting too much; she had hardly slept for the past three nights. Every year when the weather changed, it happened. Squinting around she spied a blurry Dad and toddler at the far end searching amongst the plastic buckets. Not a risk. Tilly extracted the mobile from her right jacket pocket, stooped, chose panoramic mode and photographed the bottom 2 shelves, then cranking herself back up zoomed-in to examine in detail the latest pics in her Gallery app.

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Gina’s List

Posted on by under 2025, April 2025 - The List

The policeman, I forget his name already – Masters? Marsden? – reclines in his seat and regards me with a gaze that is probably intended to be intimidating but can only be described as ‘cute.’ It’s true what they say about the police looking younger as you age.

“Tell me about your conversation with Gina Montrose on Monday,” he says. “You were overheard talking about Marco Conti.”

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I Have Never Forgotten

Posted on by under 2025, April 2025 - The List

For Uzma, joining her local Creative Writing Circle was the challenge she felt ready for, a therapy of sorts. When she wrote, secrets flowed from her pen, bypassing her brain and heart into prose on the page. They told of the secrets she kept, the secrets she revealed and the secrets she told herself.

It was as if this week’s writing prompt was beckoning her to confront all her secrets at once. Let’s do this, she thought…

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Are We on the List?

Posted on by under 2025, April 2025 - The List

            The Beynons woke to find a wall around their house. Hearing workmen behind the wall, Fred bellowed: ‘What’s occurring?’

            ‘National plan,’ came a muffled voice.

            ‘Keeping others out or us in?’ Dora shouted. Her mind was quicker than her husband’s.

            ‘I’m just doing what I’m told.’

            ‘How do I get to work?’ Fred yelled. ‘How does Alice get to school?’

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Mangoes and Mangroves

Posted on by under 2025, March 2025 - Heat

“Nothing worse than unripe tropical fruit”, muttered Garnet to no-one in particular as she stabbed the pallid orange cubes in their plastic punnet. Mango was meant to be fleshy, aromatic and messy, not like these bullets of sadness.

And that’s all it took for Garnet to book a one way ticket home to northern Queensland. London had seemed like a good time, at the time. Snow, centuries old buildings, Big Ben, quick trips to the continent, the promise of a French boyfriend. The reality was a low wage nannying job, a mouldy bedsit, gun metal skies and loneliness as a constant companion.

Queensland didn’t have a summer; it was either the wet season or the dry season. The wet was Garnet’s favourite. It came to her in her dreams through the smell of watermelons, ylang ylang and warm rain on hot tarmac. The memory of humidity hugged her like a long lost lover.

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