The elevator doors opened, creaking. Margaret entered and gestured to her sweater with a misshapen Christmas tree in goose-turd green. ‘What do you think?’ ‘Very festive.’ ‘You don’t like it?’ ‘Not particularly, sorry.’ The elevator jolted to a stop. Margaret stormed out. My phone buzzed. Horoscope (Scorpio): Today, your honesty will be appreciated. Afterword The mission […]
‘Guess, Mummy.’ A thick mass of black lines ran down Sarah‘s paper. Not the usual butterfly, rainbow or unicorn. I sit. ‘A shadow?’ ‘A tree.’ ‘Of course. Those are the branches?’ She nods. ‘These are the roots?’ ‘No, a body.’ ‘When I was out last night, what did you watch with your brother?’ Afterword The
For the third time, I hefted the acceptance letter. A robin’s chirp drew me to the window. The fledgling perched on the edge of the eaves, the last of the brood. You can do it. Fly. It flapped its wings, practising. The toaster popped. ‘Breakfast is up,’ said Mom. I kissed the letter. Afterword The mission was
High heels, red soles. Short skirt. Dangerous. The table overflowed with chips, cheese boards and dips. Her plate, empty. I approach. “The problem of too much choice?” “I normally know what I want.” And you get it, I bet. “Have a favourite dip?” “I do enjoy a skinny dip.” Outside, the lake sparkled. Afterword The mission
Aimed at the battleship, the cannon stood ready, resolute. The brink of war. A war for power, money, land and—above all else—glory. Strategy would be key, luck too. A roll of the dice. Literally. Bridget plonked the cannon upon the GO square, the edge of the board tapping the kitchen bench. Afterword The mission was
