Mischievous

My Invisible Friend

From my window I see my son playing in the garden. He will be six tomorrow and for his birthday treat he has asked to go to McDonalds. He wants to take two school friends, Thomas and Graham – but he also wants Billy to come too. Billy is his imaginary friend, a friend who…

Walls of Jericho

1901, the year Queen Victoria died, would also prove to be the death year for the less famous but well-to-do Jericho Adams, Esq. of 8 Ash Grove, (named for its complete lack of Ash trees) in Birmingham. The day began auspiciously, with the usual pair of kippers with toast served by Rose, the in-between maid….

The Roaring Sixties

“What’s your name, sweetie?” The barefoot woman in a flowing muumuu smiled as she straightened the garland of flowers in her abundant brown hair. I shaded my eyes through my hand from the bright summer sun to discern the source of the laughing voice. What I found was a portrait of a round face with…

The Sweet Smell of Success

His beautiful face contorted like a reflection in a Hall of Mirrors, spitting his hateful words ‘old, talentless and so boringly predictable.’ He had told everyone I was his ‘Next Big Thing’, pushing me to constantly audition, until my deep bass-baritone voice was destroyed. I’d wanted to please him, to make him keep me, but the grand opera…

Three for Two

Always a family affair, today there were three generations behind the stall, including a woman in her late 20s. A toddler in a torn skirt tugged at her dad, telling him in her inaccurate and swoon-worthy vernacular about her grazed knee. Her relish for the bloody mess was more life-affirming than most things round here….

A Single Shining Dot

The eye-shaped tree knot on the coffee table looks at me with unblinking intensity. The graffiti of sun rays coming out of the window frame extends onto the floor, ceiling and the adjacent wall. It says: ‘No limits’. I’d love to see Mum in this place. She who rummages around for the house keys four…

The Bubble

Pop is our favourite word. We listen to pop music, eat popcorn, suck popsicles and lollipops. You pop over to mine and we watch TV until we fall asleep on the sofa, bubble gum wrappers stuck to our faces. It was the lipsticks that gave it away. “How can you afford them all?” you said…

Jumper

Grandma used her knitting needles as weapons, viciously stabbing the air as she catalogued my shortcomings. Her fingers pulled the yarn as tight as a hangman’s noose. Dorothy From Next Door listened and sadly shook her head. Grandma’s jumpers had buttons on the shoulders, implying my head was larger than other children’s or my dressing…

Minnie

Her name was Minnie. That was all. Just Minnie. No surname or nickname like the others had, just a single word. Clean. Perfect. She stood with her back against the wall, a long-handled spoon in her mouth reflecting the blinding rays of the sun. An empty yoghurt carton lay at her feet. She viewed the…

THE Carol Service

Original Susan Tate Illustration by Michael N Green Susan Tate entered Canterbury Cathedral through the south doors. People had come from all over the county for the carol service. Above her, spotlights illuminated the intricate vaulted stone roof, picking out the richly painted bosses. Down the side aisles the brass candelabra glinted, throwing out…