It doesn’t matter if it’s the emptiness and sorrow of a lifetime of love gone – or the sting and humiliation of love unrequited. It’s painful and can strike you unawares.
Tag: creative writing
Raising August
I wasn’t a wild child really – but there were six teenage boys growing up right next door.
My Best Friends Brother
Mr and Mrs Wilton were raising a house full of boys into men, right next door to me, and when you sat at the dinner table with them, which I did often, the fragrance of male hormone mixed with sweat and dirty socks was intoxicating to a fourteen year old girl.
Ed Sheeran sings like an angel while delivering local girls first baby?
This show needs to sing like a choir of angels harmonizing as if the first child were born. This is my first child. My baby! I need music so sweet people will cry. I need Ed Sheeran!
Drink, drink and be merry…or not!
‘Alice, you keep missing a step, salt then lemon — and listen, he’s not worth the hangover you’re going to have in the morning.’
The gatekeeper and the boy next door
We were about six when The Wilton’s moved in next door. Yes, I know – who does that to their child? Wilton Wilton! The youngest of six boys, I guess they’d run out of names by the time Will came along.
The sweet stench of lollipops and love unrequited
Alice thought it hilarious, when I recounted my day from hell over drinks at Charli Browns. I couldn’t see the funny side myself and shot her a look that could kill as she plucked candy floss from my hair
A Disastrous Liaison
What could be more disastrous? It doesn’t bear thinking about. I didn’t want to go to Mary Hill-Martins birthday party in the first place.
Life: Savor Every Moment
Daily Prompt: Savor Savor every moment. Savor your early morning run, and walks on the beach. Savor spontaneous vacations and having friends over for dinner. Savor hugging. Savor carefree days and boring events. Savor throwing a ball with the kids and playing with the dog. Savor getting up and going to work every morning, or just…
Have you got Moxie?
He just smiled back and turned his face to the sun, resting back on his elbows. A great body, great smile, cute as hell! There had to be something wrong with him, surely, nobody’s that perfect.
The Tailor’s Daughter
Nobody expected that a young girl from Framlingham could make her mark on the competitive Paris Fashion Week Haute Couture runways.
Bumble is Not My Name
I did continue to drop things and stumble when I was nervous, and even sometimes when I wasn’t! But not once after leaving my high school years behind did I ever feel small again.
