Left on the Shelf

The door creaked as it begrudgingly opened. A flurry of dust, mingled in history, flew up from the unacknowledged mail gathered around its b...

  Hello November! It's so lovely to see you again with your crispy brown leaves and warm indoor fires. Here is my list of ten books that...

  Alice stifled a yawn as she stood huddled with her friends Victoria and Molly near the counter in Foyles Bookshop, their voices low as the...

  He sits on the crowded train, his kitbag on his knee, and tries not to think. All around him is the noise and celebration, peace and homec...

  "What are you thinking, Louisa? You can't wear that for church. Go and put your Sunday dress on," her mother ordered... *** ...

 Rosie Burrows and Fran Wilson joined others leaning against the wrought-iron railings, soaking in the view of the Southend seafront and all...

  Corporal Knowles is in full flow this evening, trying to get us to write letters to our loved ones, "just in case the worst happens....

September 1915  Louisa smiled as she ran a loving hand over the crisp, cotton bedsheets that she had just placed in her bottom drawer. In th...

  It's been a warm night. Summery. Quiet, as such nights go. The shattering roar of the explosions was so very sudden, cracking though t...