You and your dad pulled into the driveway.
“I don’t believe it,” said your dad…. continued
Yorkshire Copywriter, Proofreader & Author
You and your dad pulled into the driveway.
“I don’t believe it,” said your dad…. continued
You had your friend over to play.
You were in your bedroom, then he vanished. You assumed, because of how he darted out, that he was going to the toilet…. cont
Bonfire night.
As was the annual tradition, you and your family were across the road, at your grandparents’ house.
The Bus Man was always smiling.
Every Saturday, weather permitting, you and your family went for a walk.
You shared your birthday with your great-auntie, your grandad’s older sister.
Their mother had died before he even had the chance to get to know her, and so his sister was like a mother to him.
He was the first snowman I had ever built.
Coal for eyes and jacket buttons, a fresh carrot for a nose, and pebbles for a mouth.
“That’s where she lived,” said your grandad.
You stared at the house. In the whole neighbourhood, only this one was pink.
He walked in like a cloud.
People stopped talking to stare at him. They shook their heads in disgust.
You’ve got me all wrong.
Yes, I’m in the Love business; I sit here, perched above, watching you all, preparing my arrows, taking aim, firing, but, honestly, it’s not what you think.