• Story Snapper

    Our World

    A world without Coronavirus. Where social distancing is simply a matter of being British.Where a baby’s first word isn’t ‘mask’.Where Christmas is a time of peace and not of lateral flow tests.Where one does not whip out sanitiser when one goes to shake one’s hand.Where the tune ‘happy birthday’ isn’t a reminder to wash hands more thoroughly.Where death toll figures aren’t read over a bowl of cornflakes.Where fathers and mothers don’t die alone because of national restrictions.Where loved ones are lost. A world with Coronavirus. Where embracing one another isn’t taken for granted.Where broken relationships mend.Where working from home swings doors wide open.Where the world unites in giving key workers…

  • Childhood,  Family,  Friendship

    First Class

    ‘How long?’ I breathed down the phone. ‘Weeks,’ Martin’s voice choked back. The day after, at four o’clock in the afternoon, I popped around to the red-bricked house next door. Jenny was setting the table, and the smell of home-cooked cottage pie filled the air. She kindly put a teapot on for us while young Sophie played with her ice blue princess castle. ‘Does she…’ I asked, narrowing my eyes. Jenny shook her head. ‘We need to. But I just…’ Her cup shook against her saucer. ‘Let me help,’ I offered, placing my aged hand over hers. Her skin was so young. ‘How?’ Her eyes were lost, strong, and full…

  • Family

    The Perfect Gift of Love

    The perfect gift of love. Her arrival date was Christmas Day. Her funeral date was not much later. She lived and died inside of me. I cradled her silent body, kissed her sleeping eyes, and hung tight until she was taken away. My baby. My gift. My love. Mince pies filled the air, laughter, lights, out-of-tune carols, and the tearing of paper. Everything was bright, though the colour had faded for me and Matt. Our angel would have been a year older today. She would have shone like the star on top of our tree. Sammy rolled around under the Christmas tree, crushing the presents with his long body, his…

  • Family,  Friendship

    Logan and Lucy

    Lucy entered my life when Logan exited it. He’d been unwell for some time. We’d had many years together, our whole lives really. We met in primary school, and despite the bumpy road, we finished in our sixties. He slipped away peacefully, although can anyone really know if a person died peacefully? It was a Tuesday. A sunny day. I’ll never forget wrapping my hand around his cold fingers like a scarf that terrible morning. I wanted to keep him warm. I had barely shed a tear when a deep barking sliced through the stillness. For a second, I thought it was an awful mistake, and Logan was alive. When…

  • Family

    Her Mark

    We ventured all over the village, leaving traces of her everywhere. She had left a mark on Sarah and me, but she was too young to have left her mark on the world. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. I wanted everyone to see her, to know her, to feel the impact of her short existence. On a post in the woods, we left her old shoe. She learnt to walk there. On a jagged stone wall, we left a buttercup. She always stopped to pick them on our family walks. On a roundabout in a playground, we left her toy microphone. She said her first word on there. ‘Sing’.…

  • Family,  Romance

    Their Evening

    Pearl pink and pale yellow reflected in her wet eyes with every step she took. The salty smell of fish and chips and seawater drifted around like the boats on the still water. It was just the three of them. Sister. Brother. Mother. Like it had been for seven years. The colours in the sky were mixing, changing. And so were they. He watched as the plane left a crisp white path on the blue banner. They were about to welcome a strange face into their circle. Strange eyes. Strange hands. Even though they were adults, they felt like children. Seven years echoed in her thoughts. Seven. Now a new…

  • Family

    Meet Margery

    Mother, I’m so sorry it’s been such a long time since I visited you. The thing is, Amy is becoming such a handful, and it’s only been since her ninth birthday last month. You know, the other day, she broke the vase you bought me for my twenty-eighth birthday. Do you remember? The blue one with red spots? Of course, she blamed it on poor Sam. He’s nearly five now. He tried to bite Amy, you see, and then Amy, such a sly girl, started to blame Sam for everything. It’s quite chaotic at home, Mother. You’d put them both back in their places, I know you would. They miss…