Like sandcastles

I WOKE up after a vivid dream of Eleanor. I’d had quite a few recently. Eleanor was my half-sister. She was older than me – the daughter of Dad’s first wife, Dorrie. My mum only found out he had a fir

IN AN AGE OF COMPARISON CULTURE AND GLOSSY SOCIAL-MEDIA LIVES, IT’S HARD NOT TO QUESTION YOUR OWN PROGRESS. BUT THERE’S NO RIGHT PATH TO LIFE AS THESE WOMEN, WHO ARE TURNING CONVENTION ON ITS HEAD AND SHARING WISDOM AS THEY GO, DEMONSTRATE…

KAREN is my oldest and closest friend. We met when we were eleven, seated side by side on the first day of secondary school, and instantly hit it off. She was tall and thin with long, straight, fair h

AS Ellie bent to pick up an old trainer laying half buried in a pile of seaweed, she screamed. “Aargh, there’s a leg attached to this!” For a moment she thought she’d stumbled across a gruesome crime

I’m a monster!’ ‘No, you’re not.’ ‘I am actually evil. Look!’ With a sigh, Doug tore himself away from the big game on TV, and glanced at the piece of paper his wife Lisa had thrust at him. ‘You look

The house next door had stood empty for many months and the weeds in the overgrown garden were spreading into my flower borders, becoming a nuisance. I’d taken early retirement when Jack became too il