Bob Lightfoot held the large, shiny packet in his hand. It contained exactly 150 grams. He tore it open and removed the contents one by one. Piled them on top of the wooden table in front of him. A table full of dirty pots and pans, an opened jar of Strawberry Jam, a loaf … Continue reading Bob Lightfoot.
A short story involving Thatcher, a crime and a long hot school holiday, published by the fabulous, Sick Lit Magazine. I do hope you like it. https://sicklitmagazine.com/2017/04/21/memories-by-henrietta-ross/
I am over at the brilliant Twisted Sister Lit Mag today with a twisted tale. Enjoy. https://twistedsisterlitmag.com/2017/01/05/fiction-daddy-has-red-lips/
It's World Mental Health Day. I have to admit this year I might have forgotten, if I hadn't been on Facebook and noticed a friend saying she was trying to wrote something. I, in the interests of inspiration, then asked my friends what I should write about and found myself swamped with ideas. As I couldn't cover all of their insightful suggestions, I decided to pick just one. So here it is.
In the interview with Dave Rubin, Fry spoke about the renaissance, that lustrous time when innovative new ideas and uncensored free thought abounded in society.
It’s been seven hours and fifteen days, since you took your love away. That is not strictly true, it has been three thousand, eight hundred and sixty four hours. Does that amount of time even register with you? Do you even care? It’s not like I even know where you are. You threw most … Continue reading It’s been seven hours and fifteen days, since you took your love away.
‘I didn't write these, I am twenty three,' Meredith shouts, spittle flying from her mouth, reaching out in anger, throwing several books to the floor. ‘We got married Meredith, we honeymooned in St Lucia and bought a house, the house we live in now, and had two sons,’ Roy says, returning the books to the shelves, … Continue reading Memories
Warning: Description of a sexual act and unorthodox practices. Bruce pulls her close, sheds a tear as he buries his head in her neck, long, slender, the sort of neck men want to caress, even with these bruises. The silence is strange but she had always been quiet, reserved, a little anxious perhaps. Fingers searching … Continue reading Desire!
I admit, whenever I see an advert for a programme about Bipolar Disorder on television, I am filled with anticipation. Sometimes this anticipation is rewarded, sometimes not, such is life. On Wednesday evening, a programme aired on Channel 4 called Being Bipolar. If you are based in the UK and haven’t watched it, you can … Continue reading My Response to Channel 4’s ‘Being Bipolar’