Something was wrong. The cabin was dark. Arthur always turned on the table lamp by the bookcase and the front porch light whenever he left home for any period of time.

I'd been forgetting a lot of things lately. Then again, I'm not alone in that.

Melissa believed the human race could be divided into two groups. Those who have an innate desire to explore, and those who are anchored to a specific place from birth until death.

Freelance journalism was cutthroat. There were lots of dues to pay.

Husselbee cleared his throat, rapped on the glass, and told the woman in the green polo shirt he had murdered a man.

For thirty generations his family had ruled these lands. In the view of the Council of Vicars, the esteemed priests of the Church of the Edd, he’d eclipsed all predecessors in seventy years as Sovereign. But who would follow him?

‘There’s magic on this island,’ said Gran as I stepped off the boat.

Mother and Daughter had repeated this routine every school day since Jessie was five years old but today was the day Jessie started “Big School” as her mother embarrassingly insisted on telling everyone they had met for the past three months.

For seven weeks, three days and some number of hours we’ve come here; nocturnal pilgrims looking for answers — holding vigil while she drifts further from our grasp.

There was always something magical about the last day of school before the summer holidays. I am sure you remember the sensation yourself.

On April 3rd, 2019, I embarked on the longest walk known to the human race. This walk wasn’t measured by miles or steps, but by psychological trauma.

Why was he still Pilt the Scrummie and not Pilt the Bosun? Most days, he would have settled for just being Pilt the Sailor.

Oscar watched his housemate Philippa’s fingers move in staccato beats over the keys, each note prodded from the piano like a confession. All the same, he sang along.

I need air... I need to breathe, or I'll die... Helena coughed uncontrollably, her chest felt like it was on fire, and she kept throwing up salty water.

When he lost his eye, half of Eric Jessop's field of vision became a black sadness that seeped into everything from football to faces. Only skating was strong enough to resist the stain.