COFFEE – STORY – SNAP
Snapshots of daily life paired with untold stories, spun by the imagination of a creative writer
His death had stolen my heart away, and for a year, I had no interest in searching for it back. But then, at eleven in
His eyes glazed over the lake like it didn’t exist. He had a sunken, pale face and shoulders that dropped so low you could almost
‘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
Cocooned in an expensive, beige coat, adorned with enough gold to make a Christmas tree happy, and masked with the perfect colour palette for my
I heard the shouting through my bedroom wall one night. It was a woman’s voice. She sounded like how my mum did when my older
