Author Archives: Sandra

A woman turns to God, they say, when she’s too old for the devil. My sister was the exception to the rule, rushing headlong into the church’s arms as a teenager, like a rat from a sack. The entire congregation … Continue reading →

It was a tedious, exhausting journey. No point in asking if we were nearly there yet; we were always nearly there, just as we were always nearly rich, nearly united, nearly content.  But soon we were slithering joyfully down the … Continue reading →

“It just isn’t working.” “I know.” His dirt-ingrained fingers rake through his grizzled grey hair. “The fertiliser’s feckin’ useless these days, so the crops can’t thrive… and while they’re sanitising insecticides to the point where they no longer work, pests … Continue reading →

If he saw me at all, it was only through an up-turned wine- glass. In truth, I was just a listening head.  And even then, his eyes would drift, scanning for a wider audience.  He probably told himself my silence … Continue reading →

Morticia sighed as she detached the vampiric kitten from her neck and floated across the shop to remonstrate with the ectoplasm in the corner. “Put those books back where you found them” she said, slapping the part that most closely … Continue reading →

Nobody except me remembers how it started, though none of us will ever forget how it ended. Poised on the brink, arms outstretched, head tucked, cheers echoing off the cliff faces surrounding the shallow pool, and his lithe body gleaming … Continue reading →

Robin believes everyone needs a place to call their own. Somewhere away from city folk and their incessant screaming, their clutching hands hanging onto their miserable existences. Robin wonders if anything can compare with climbing the hillside at the end … Continue reading →

Making a living cleaning other people’s houses is bad enough; having to shift so much junk before you can even start the job is the icing on the frigging cake. “It all means something special to me,” the old girl … Continue reading →