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Short story
Her father left memories that Aanya would treasure forever
RUTH climbed the narrow path to Windlow Hill. She had a canvas bag in one hand and her mother’s old cardigan tucked under the other. Below, the village looked almost as it had in her childhood – white
I’M sitting at the window and Max is in the aisle seat. There is a spare seat between us, which is as well, as the air crackles with bad feeling. I don’t want to be flying. I’d prefer Christmas at hom
JOHANN KERNER saw the woman coming out of the darkness. She looked ancient and she moved as slowly as a snail, her back bent. She was the most likely source of information he had seen on his travels.
It looked like a bleak Christmas for all – until Becky had a bright idea
WHAT’S that racket?” Rae looked around. “It’s Jake. Your son,” she called, smiling. “He’s bought a second-hand drum kit.” Leo winced as another loud crash echoed down the stairs, then he took off his
OK? Ready?” “Yep.” Fi smiled at Brand. She then picked up the bags full of presents, hoping her face had been convincing. There had been a time when she’d loved these family gatherings at Christmas bu