COFFEE – STORY – SNAP
Snapshots of daily life paired with untold stories, spun by the imagination of a creative writer
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
As if all the rooftops in our town were fairy cakes, one cold night, God decided to finish them all off with a dusting of
I knew the long hours doctors worked. When my brother told me he wanted to become one, I knew I wouldn’t see him much. I
We met in a quaint coffee shop one quiet afternoon. The persistent sun shone through the oval window onto his table where he was reading
Every Sunday afternoon, as a young boy, Father would take me out to the hills where we would set our boats to sail on the
We were sitting on a metal spoon like an egg, unsteady, any sudden movement about to finish us off. We weren’t going to reach the
