The Memory Box – A Life In Letters: Short Story

I sat at the table with my mother, her blue-veined hands tapping out a tune that only she could hear. She smiled at me vacantly. I knew she couldn’t remember who I was, though she seemed to acknowledge that I was benign, something simple and pleasant like the institutional tea set and the cheap biscuits. My mother devoured them greedily, like a little girl at a rival’s birthday party. The activity room had a dozen tables like ours, covered with cheerful chintz tablecloths and circled with residents and their visitors in various degrees of torpor.

A New Promise: Short Story

A touching work of fiction, based on true events.

Patiently Waiting: A Short Story

We are waiting for an ambulance. After a week of various diagnoses my son is feeling sick, not eating, not drinking, and not taking his medicine...