by Angela Wright Her grandad was a man not given to any sort of effusive speech, or in fact any conversation at all. She thought that describing him as laconic was almost an understatement. Most replies to questions were nods, shakes of his tousled head or grunts. He was very old, very deaf and … Continue reading A Man of Few Words
by Angela Wright I never really wanted to marry Prince Charming, and have to admit to feelings of annoyance and discomfiture when the glass slipper fitted my petite and well shaped foot. Although it was highly amusing to watch my ugly stepsisters try to squeeze their huge bunioned tootsies into the slippers, part of … Continue reading Cinders
by Angela Wright I think my luck may have run out at last. I feel a trickle of cold sweat down my spine and my old ticker bangs alarmingly in my chest. My tongue sticks to the roof of my dry mouth. I am eighty-five and have been playing the ‘old card’ for several … Continue reading Impunity
by Angela Wright She checks the address on the crumpled piece of paper. So this is where he lives. She gazes up at the house, lit only by the street light, which casts dark shadows on the elegant façade. No lights on in the windows, so nobody home yet. Quite a sizeable place, so … Continue reading Payback Time
by Angela Wright Facing his wife Isabel’s sullen scowl as he flopped down exhausted into the armchair, he felt his defences slipping. The nature of his work was supposed to be kept secret, but it had been a long gruelling day. Isabel had had many lonely hours to work herself up into a state … Continue reading The Truth
by Angela Wright Their separation was supposed to be temporary. Daniel explained that it was a chance to take stock, to re-evaluate their relationship. Lucy did not understand what he meant, but reluctantly agreed anyway. It was soon evident to her that it was heading swiftly towards permanency. Firstly there was the pink car … Continue reading Dusty Tap Shoes
by Angela Wright "GRAHAM AND I NEVER TALK ABOUT IT" – MARK WATSON, HOTEL ALPHA We had been to the theatre, and we were rushing to catch the last train home. It was a dark and drizzly night, and as we scuttled along the empty backstreet, we noticed the dark shape of a man … Continue reading Graham and I Never Talk About It
