Tag Archives: her

Suicide? Don’t Blame Me, Pal

Posted on by under 2026, Oct 2026 - Hypocrisy

Let’s be clear: I did nothing wrong. Barbara had a history of bad depression. Very trying, but I was ever there for her. I couldn’t pull her through but I stayed at her side. You can only get out of the dark tunnel by yourself, girl, I told her. But I’m outside it, ready to offer you my strong arms when you make it into the light. And get this: it was years ago when I left her. Can we be clear about that? It seems she carried on dwelling in gloom. Just listen now: don’t blame me!

‘Your face is unreadable,’ she said, ‘but I see trustfulness.’ Trust was an issue with her. Difficulties with her father. A rat, a philanderer. She claimed I broke that trust when I moved out. What can I say? I am not a philanderer.

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There Ought to be Clowns

Posted on by under 2026, Oct 2026 - Hypocrisy

Funny how you hold onto ideas, simmering away for years until they suddenly burst into flowers of insight.

With Eva it was clowns. For her 9th birthday she was taken to a circus and hated it . She found the fleet of clowns particularly distasteful and the reason for this seemed to be that clowns simply could not be trusted; they were not what they seemed with exaggeratedly painted, upturned mouths for smiles or huge tear drops to stand in for emotions. It wasn’t fear – it was distrust, a feeling that Eva thought about occasionally and eventually would associate with words such as dishonesty, gas lighting, fakery or deception. 

Clowns in stories or art rarely argued for a more sympathetic appraisal.  They were villains or emotional grifters.  On a trip to Southend pier, Eva witnessed a slot machine which, if fed a coin, started a clown figure into rolling about with faked laughter until the money ran out. Some laughed, but Eva sensed malevolence and moved away.

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Miss Take

Posted on by under 2026, Sept 2026 - Mistakes

Missy was all about stuff. Looking for stuff, gathering stuff, organising stuff and dreaming of ways to procure more of it.

If anyone was having a clear out, she was onto it. “I’ll take that”, being her catchphrase. A broken lampshade left on the street – “I’ll take that”. A friend giving away an art easel with sticky oil paints – “I’ll take that”, despite having no intentions of ever painting. Leftovers at a potluck dinner “Ok if I take that?” while simultaneously whipping the half-eaten cherry pie into a Jiffy bag.  

Although she sulked about her nickname Miss Take but could hardly argue with it.

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Making Up For A Mistake

Posted on by under 2026, Sept 2026 - Mistakes

            ‘Sometimes I wish I was someone else.’

            Bob, having finally got Edna to talk about herself, hesitated then asked: ‘Do you feel…?’

            ‘Unwanted?’

They were in a pub in Peckham, both sipping warm beer, the nineteen-fifties three days from ending.

            ‘The next decade’s going to be better,’ Bob said. ‘Attitudes are going to change.’

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One Name Between Us

Posted on by under 2026, Sept 2026 - Mistakes


Photo by Michelle Gregor on Unsplash

They grew us a new body. It was ready the morning we married. It wasn’t hers, and it wasn’t mine. This was the fairest way, they said, so no one would be favoured. Our old bodies went to the furnace by evening. I signed the merge as the last act of a solitary person and woke with hands and a heart belonging to both of us.

For nine days, I was happy.

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Late Bloomers

Posted on by under 2026, July 2026 - Confession

Noah was still taking a deep, pollen-filled breath beneath the wisteria when Carrie opened the door. He hadn’t yet manifested his Cat-Shelter-Worker persona, let alone pressed the doorbell.

            He’d always thought the photos of Carrie in those speculative articles were filtered, but here she was, not a line on her sixty-year-old face. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed as she regarded him.

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Dear Juniper

Posted on by under 2026, July 2026 - Confession

Juniper loved the walk from the cottage to the battered blue post box at the end of her lane. Her steps took on a lightness as she padded barefoot, swaying with baby Violet tucked on her hip, high on the savoury aroma of wild garlic. Pale yellow primroses, cowslips and bluebells caught the bucolic spring sunshine. This corner of Dorset would always be home. Her mother and grandmother had grown up here. It was here that Juniper could better remember her mother Astrid – the arc of her nose, the daffodil chains they had made, the scent of milky rice pudding straight from the Aga.

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Beneath the Froth

Posted on by under 2026, April 2026 - Vanity

The door to the coffee shop tinkles as Charlotte opens it. At first glance, it bears no resemblance to the busy hairdressers it used to be, though there is something familiar in the warmth that envelops her the moment she steps inside.

            It’s called ‘Froth,’ which Charlotte considers an appropriately shallow name for a place that was once called ‘Vanity Hair.’ On the surface, it was just somewhere you came to fix your hair. But the healing went deeper than that. People left feeling better about themselves on the inside as well as the outside.

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You’re the Villain in Someone Else’s Story

Posted on by under 2026, April 2026 - Vanity

09/04/2012

Mildred Addams is an eyesore! Did her mum marry a gorilla? She’s a girl from school, built with the size and dimensions of a stone boulder, so shave her head and plonk her outside a nightclub and you’ve got yourself a bouncer. I swear if I pull down her knickers I’ll see her willy.

Anyway, come lunchtime, whilst me and my girlfriends are hanging out by the picnic tables, she’ll be there, eating by herself, her miserable stink putting me right off my lunch. Delia tells me to ignore her but I’m going to give it to golem girl someday.

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 Creation

Posted on by under 2026, March 2026 - Art

            ‘Jed Newton. The hospital? Yes that’s right the wife’s on the list. We was told she’d be a proper good match in the right circumstances but… What? An opportunity has…? I’m not following you, mate. Listen now, she was informed the chances weren’t great due to the rarity of… What? A dying woman has what…? Are you saying Tracy can have her womb transplant?’

/

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Gloria’s Gifts

Posted on by under 2026, February 2026 - The Gift

I must admit, I hoped Gran might leave me her jewellery. Instead, on her deathbed, she passed me a box with a shaky hand and said,

‘Melody dear, take this to Chris at Hedgehog Aid. Oh, and this is for you.’

Now, this did look interesting. An ornate gilt-edged diary.

            Her death was peaceful, or at least it looked that way from where we were sitting, on three wooden chairs dragged in from the kitchen. I was perched between my Mum and her estranged sister Alice, engulfed in their icy silence. The moment Gran passed, a warm glow filled the room, easing the tension and even some of the grief.

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A SPECIAL GIFT

Posted on by under 2026, February 2026 - The Gift

Adam Taylor bounced out of the office, a ruggedly handsome man. His life revolved around getting that sensational story that would guarantee his fame and fortune. Life had other plans, he would become famous just not in the way imagined.

Adam had been working on something secretly for months. He was getting close and the lady Audrey, his snout,  promised it was the real deal, she had inside information. Walking to the quiet gardens in Kensington he smiled to himself. At last it was going to happen. He was writing the story in his head.

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The Gift of Kambo

Posted on by under 2026, February 2026 - The Gift

Martha Ferris didn’t see herself as a bad person, never went out of her way to hurt anyone. She just made a point of looking out for number one and if that meant trampling on other people, too bad.

When money was tight, she had a trick to save on food bills. Namely pinching grub from the fridge at work. Taking pride in her quick sleight of hand, as she grabbed her can of coke, she’d shove Rachel’s mini sausages or Nigel’s rice balls into her handbag, but it was Holly Blackbone she loved to steal from.

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It’s a fake?

Posted on by under 2026, January 2026 - The Movie

Mrs Jane Hastings, aged fifty-three, felt nothing but childish envy for Ms. Julia Parkhurst. Ms. Parkhurst’s cardinal sin was being pretty. Very pretty actually. She was (to hell with delicacy) a bosomy, twenty-three-year-old, who’s bright smile and cheerful disposition made the acne encrusted boys of Roverbank Comprehensive grunt with longing.

Still professionalism had to be maintained, because today. something alarming had been brought to Hastings’ attention. And when she called Ms. Parkhurst into her office, (resenting how gracefully the young woman sat down) she coughed and said “Julia, we don’t pry into the staff’s personal lives, it’s just when a sex tape is leaked to the public, you may have to resign.”

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No Yesterday

Posted on by under 2026, January 2026 - The Movie

Rejection emails are processed differently, Jade had learned. She scanned the text for the now-familiar key words, which leapt off the screen directly into her heart.

            ‘Re: Your screenplay, Tomorrow… whilst we enjoyed… unfortunately… highly selective…’

            Jade slammed the laptop shut, as though the message couldn’t hurt her if it wasn’t witness to her tears. When the images of the Netflix parties she wouldn’t be hosting started flashing through her mind, she turned to red wine and The Beatles.

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The Outback Mysteries

Posted on by under 2025, Dec 2025 - Tis the Season

“Fucking mozzies” muttered Bob half asleep as he swatted another of the bastards with his hand. “And fucking flies!” he yelled, batting away another attacker.

Can’t stand it here, he thought bitterly, knowing he couldn’t voice his hatred of this new homeland out loud. Surrounded by Sheena’s Australian family who were all thrilled to have her back, had put paid to that. Christmas here was all wrong. Blazing sunshine, barbecued seafood, chilly salads – where was the tradition in that? He missed carol singers, his mother’s crispy roasties and the possibility of sledging in the snow. What he’d give for a Baileys to hand, the EastEnders Christmas special blaring and a box of Quality Street to while away the afternoon.

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