Harbouring memories

I AM someone who loves space. This is perhaps because of early childhood days on the beautiful Solway Coast. My father’s family farm was right on the beach. It enjoyed uninterrupted views across to th

It was a simple and innocent moment Sarah witnessed as the bus pulled into the stop to drop off a young man, no more than twenty years of age, clutching a bunch of bright daffodils. She was about to t

BRUSHING wind-whipped hair from her eyes, Catriona crouched, scanning the colourful smorgasbord of stones, seaweed and shells on the shoreline. There! Half-hidden under an empty limpet. A cowrie. Gent

AS their Morris Minor drew up before the Green Gables Hotel, Clarice Rayne heaved a sigh. Not only was it luxury to travel to the seaside in their own transportation, but she was here with her husband

I WAS browsing the bookshelf in a charity shop when I glanced up to see my neighbour outside, trying to come in. With his arms fully encumbered with a large bag, the door was proving difficult to open

NOTHING said “home” like the kitchen of Nant-y-Bri Farm at breakfast time. Delicious frying pan smells hung heavy in the air and the scrape of cutlery on willow pattern plates indicated the family had