thefarmerswife's profile

“It’s all rather ridiculous, really,” she said to the dog as she stood in front of the mirror, “getting dressed up just to break up with someone.” The sight of herself in her old floral sundress made her snort. “Silly old fool,” she said to her reflection shaking her head. “At your age you should know better than to get yourself in to these situations in the first place.” And yet here I am, she thought with a sigh. She'd never meant for it to happen. If only she hadn't accidentally caught his...

Sarah shivered. It was a fitting place to draw an end to everything; the end of a life she hated, in a place she despised. She stood on the promenade looking at the long, thin strip of sand that stretched for miles in either direction. Six consecutive summers she had been dragged to this place, this hell on earth with its cheap B&B’s, scratchy sheets and even scratchier landladies. Six years of stretching out on the gritty, dirty sand amongst the other hundreds who flocked here every summer....

The pan of deep brown molten chocolate began to bubble. Isabel moved it off the flame and set it on the counter beside a bag of marshmallows and a plate covered in hundreds and thousands, and began to dip. She took the marshmallows, one at a time, and dipped them first in the chocolate, then in the hundreds and thousands, and then dropped them onto the tray, licking the drips off her fingers after each one. Dip, dip, drop, lick. Dip, dip, drop, lick. She closed her eyes savouring the rich sm...

Miscarriage was one of those things, like cancer or identity theft, that happened to other people, not to me. Even when the bleeding started the week before I told myself it was just light spotting, nothing to worry about, perfectly normal. Call it optimism, call it denial, but whatever it was it didn’t last. The day my rose tinted glasses came off started much like any other, with a high pitched squeal from the room next door. “What time is it?” Came a groggy voice from under the duvet. I fu...

It was a fitting place to draw an end to everything. The end of a life she hated, in a place she despised. Sarah stood on the concrete promenade looking at the long strip of sand that stretched for miles in either direction. Six consecutive summers she had been dragged to this place, this hell on earth. Six years of staying at the cheap B&B with the scratchy sheets, stretching themselves out on the gritty sand amongst the other hundreds who flocked here every summer. Rows of overweight, pasty...