Autor: Radomił Grzelak
Margaret Clarke was leaving the chemist, her mind fixed on one thing getting home without any mishap.
July32026 Diary The suitcase was already by the front door, the kettle still whistling away a pot of
Ill call my dad, the little girl at the front desk said, pressing the phone to her chest as if it were
The long dining table stretched like a narrow river, cramped by silver platters and the smug perfume
April 12 I hung up the phone and stared at the handset a moment longer, as if it were the one to blame.
I’ll be there to support you and help you, the man promised, his voice steady as any sixtyyearold
28September2024 Tonight I find myself scribbling in the back of my diary, halfamused, halfmortified at
Victor found the little beast on a deserted stretch of the A4 in October. The pup was curled up on the
Alright then, lets see what your country folk are like! my motherinlaw chuckled as she swept past the
Hey, Rusty, you up for a walk? I muttered, tightening the makeshift lead Id cobbled together from an old rope.









