"Mike!" Alona shouted, her voice cutting through the mewing seagulls overhead. "You've got to pull yourself together. Come on, let's take a stroll, I need fresh air." Separated by an intentional gap, they headed across the car park towards the quayside. There, under watchful eyes of mothers, a huddle of children leant over the edge… Continue reading A Stroll Along the Quay
Stationary on the driveway, Hattie killed the gentle purr of the electric motor housed under the bonnet of the newly converted and refurbished red Pontiac, 1969 GTO. Seconds before, she'd seen Wyatt watering the flower borders of the front yard outside his house. Despite attempts to avoid eye contact, it had happened. She watched as… Continue reading Will He Ask Again?