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Short story
Edie knew life wasn’t a rehearsal, but when was she going to
Welcome to the Charles Jessop Theatre.” Lysette nervously eyed the group of drama students gathered in the foyer. She didn’t feel ready to lead her first guided tour. She’d only been at the theatre a
I stood by the kitchen window; phone pressed to my ear. Outside, frost shimmered across the lawn, and the weak winter sun filtered through the trees. “So, what do you think?” I said to Phoebe. “A post
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
WHAT do you think, Zara?” Mum says, pulling her hair above her ears. “Hair up or down?” “Remind me where you’re going.” “To the cinema. And possibly for a drink afterwards.” “The cinema seats have hig
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…
THE bell above the door jingled as Freya screwed the top on a big glass jar. “Be right with you!” she called, efficiently using the wooden steps to reach the top shelf and stow the aniseed twists wher