A game of Scrabble has serious consequences.

A semi-barbaric king devises a semi-barabaric (but entirely fair) method of criminal trial involving two doors, a beautiful lady and a very hungry tiger.

Sandra performed her little charade in front of the mirror and morphed into the Gisela character on a whim. She had a small tickle of flirtatious laughter down pat.

Beth wore her favorite pink smock. It had bottomless pockets perfect for carrying important things like handfuls of rubber bands, marbles the color of oceans, a red shoelace, a spoon, and two troops of plastic soldiers- one blue and one green.

I won’t tell anyone about the diagnosis. Not my mother or sister. Certainly not Jake. Maybe not even Steve.

It wasn’t fury that vitalised Hannah, it was loss, grief even – though heaven knows she shouldn’t be the one grieving. But she couldn’t bear him just carrying on without her.

“Going souling", they used to call it. I can remember m’grandad telling me he used to do it, when he were little, going round the houses and offering to say prayers for the dead, in exchange for these little cakes, soul cakes they called ‘em.

Stella cannot remember a time before nature was her haven, her place of peace and healing. It was a big part of her life before she met her husband and the father of her two children.

Outwardly Seth didn’t react as he watched Mrs. Hatfield misplay the four spade contract, but inwardly he groaned. True, she made it, but most of the other pairs would make it with an overtrick.

He looked around him and recoiled. The darkness was immense. He raised a hand in front of him, feeling it get close, closer, until he reached the tip of his nose. Still, he saw nothing.

“We left the map behind,” said Annie as they were five hours away from Anstruther, pulling into their own driveway. “We need to go back.”