The Bridge That Joined – Part Two
‘I’m Harriet,’ I thrust my hand out as my hair whipped over my face. Great. That played out better in my head. ‘Christian.’ I flapped
COFFEE – STORY – SNAP
Snapshots of daily life paired with untold stories, spun by the imagination of a creative writer
‘I’m Harriet,’ I thrust my hand out as my hair whipped over my face. Great. That played out better in my head. ‘Christian.’ I flapped
I gripped the cold metal railing, mesmerised by the distant hum of car engines driving over the bridge that clung to Wales and England. The
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
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
argument baby girl beach change children Christmas Coffee coronavirus Countryside covid-19 daughter Dream family Father friend friendship granddaughter grief Husband husband and wife Kindness lockdown lonely loss Love marriage mother mother and daughter Mum Nature pandemic parenting parents park pet relationship Relationships romance sea son spring summer support wife winter