Leave a comment

At what price?

A Kathryn Blake fragment . . .

She shut herself into a cubicle and struggled to compose herself. She had almost succeeded, and a moment later would have been in the open room, when the outer door was flung open and a little drama played itself out for her. She did not need a word of the language to understand it. There was the mother, harassed, rushing, her sympathy worn down by circumstance. The first child, fretful and in need of imminent relief. In the background a second child, sulky and uncooperative. The party charged out, and in her distraction she had washed her hands and stepped towards to the door before she saw the gift.

The mother’s handbag, unregarded by the counter.

She moved fast, knowing that she would have seconds to look innocent when the door crashed back – as it soon must. She took a single note from the wallet, enough to make good her worst deficits and face the day in some kind of order, and she was halfway to the door with the bag outstretched before her and a suitable expression of concern before she was interrupted.

She was ready for suspicion, perhaps for anger. The woman was so helplessly grateful it almost melted her resolve.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


Trials & Tribulations of Writing Fiction


Stills, video, thoughts.

The Addicted Writer

Writing stories people want to read

Mathew Lyons


Project Gemini

The adventures of a dad of three, beginning to explore the world of writing.


Esther Chilton - Writer and Tutor

Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker


Author DW Ulsterman

The Daily Tales of Gregg Savage

Every day, I write a unique story for you to share and enjoy.

Little Fears

Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes

wtf, subconscious?

Dreams, drawings and psychoanalytic fun

harm·less drudg·ery

defining the words that define us

unbolt me

the literary asylum

"Where we're going, we don't need roads."

On sports and life and other topics at hand ...

Mum's The Word!

Life through the eyes of a mum, wife, woman

Rose English UK


%d bloggers like this: