A STORY TOLD IN SONG: 3
Hello, it’s me
I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet
To go over everything
They say that time’s supposed to heal ya
But I ain’t done much healing Read More …
Tag: 3.5 Pickaxe
A STORY TOLD IN SONG: 2
JUST AS ANNABELLE suspected, Phillip didn’t relinquish the mic. Would he forgive or condemn? Read More …
YOU NEED TO HEAR MY STORY
WENDY LOOKED AROUND the room at all the old familiar faces, trying to find some inner peace. That place that made her feel safe, but it was proving elusive. Read More …
ZOOMED OUT OF A MARRIAGE
Could life get any better than this? I thought to myself, as I stretched out luxuriously on the king-size bed and glanced at the clock on the bedside table of the five-star hotel I was staying in. I yawned. Read More …
TICK… TICK… TICK…
I thought I was arriving early at the lawyer’s office but by the time my attorney turned up and we were led into the conference room, Dave and his lady advocate were already there. This prompted the jealous reaction that always consumed me when I saw him interact in any way with a beautiful woman. I suspected that deep down I’d always felt a little inferior to him. He was a brilliant catch for any woman. At forty-eight, he was more handsome than he’d been at twenty, tall and muscular, owned his own successful business, and headed the local chamber of commerce. I shuddered at the thought that if today didn’t go well, I might never feel his big, comforting arms around me ever again. Read More …
THE LATE MRS. CARTER
POLICE LIEUTENANT COSGROVE INTERVIEWS MRS. WESTON
“Thank you for coming in again, Mrs. Weston. I just wanted to go over your statement of yesterday. Just to clear up a few inconsistencies if that’s alright?” Read More …
THE WILL
I looked around the room at all the sad, tearful faces present. I wasn’t surprised at all by their grief. My husband, Dave, had been a terrific father, successful businessman, great supporter of our community, and a loyal friend. Read More …
ANOTHER LOVE: FINAL JUSTICE
Kevin McDonald stood impatiently at the arrivals concourse at Chicago’s O’Hare airport waiting for his little brother to arrive from LA. During a scan of the faces of the incoming passengers he caught sight of his reflection in a pane of glass and realised that he looked as haggard as he felt. He’d only managed about four hours sleep in the two nights since the email had arrived from his father. The email that proved the estrangement he’d felt for years toward, not only his father, but his little brother, was based on a lie. The feelings of guilt, remorse, and a terrible sadness for the lost years that could never be retrieved, was eating him alive. Read More …
Sophie’s Dilemmas
The look my husband, Dave, gave me as I
walked through the garage battered into the confidence and determination I’d felt mere seconds before.
I’d been loaded for bear and fully prepared for a strenuous confrontation before that look. Now I was back to confusion and self-reflection. All due to that expression on his handsome, familiar face. Read More …
Another Prisoner At The Bar
THE SCENE: A COURTROOM IS SET UP to make the inhabitant of the dock feel isolated and intimidated. Its positioning made somewhat of a lie of the legal concept of innocent until proven guilty. It is set as far from anyone else in the room as the space permits. In particular, it’s a long way from where its occupant’s defence counsel, sometimes their only friendly face, inhabits. It is positioned at the foot of the raised platform where the stern looking judge sits, looking down at them. Read More …