My Little Girl
Christmas came, and Christmas left. She was tiny when I held her in that hospital room on Boxing Day. Thick dark hair. It gave me
COFFEE – STORY – SNAP
Snapshots of daily life paired with untold stories, spun by the imagination of a creative writer
Christmas came, and Christmas left. She was tiny when I held her in that hospital room on Boxing Day. Thick dark hair. It gave me
Salty sea air. As soon as the scent hits my nostrils, I’m jolted back to the days of high-pitched giggles, knotted sandy blonde hair, smooth
‘Mummy?’ Sophie asks, flinging our linked hands to and fro. ‘Yes?’ I answer mindlessly, strolling along the path hedged in by weather-beaten fences. Shouting pierces
Every morning on my way to school, I walked past the same girl. Her mummy was never with her. We never said hello. She looked
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