COFFEE – STORY – SNAP
Snapshots of daily life paired with untold stories, spun by the imagination of a creative writer
When I was five, it was just Daddy and me. He didn’t walk in the door with bags of sweets anymore. He had to pick
‘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
Fourteen foster homes in fourteen years. Every year, a new home. There was always something. Not the right fit, just a temporary thing, they had
Clad in sooty black leather, my Mary roared about the seaside village from the unripe age of sixteen. When she rode, her vanilla hair whipped
‘Mum, can we go now?’ Samuel groaned, tugging his mum’s Gillet as she perused a selection of begonias. ‘Almost, darling.’ She read a tag. Samuel
The perfect gift of love. Her arrival date was Christmas Day. Her funeral came shortly after. She lived and died inside of me. I cradled
