Short Story Sunday: Inkwell

As Rosa unlocked the rear entry to the store, she was greeted by the familiar scents of dust, powder and string. She had finally remembered to seal the vat of glue that gave off the most ghastly chemical smell, and so she felt free to inhale deeply. It was a new day at Inkwell and the last Saturday before the schools reopened for the new year. 

Short Story Sunday: The Seamstress (In memory of Agnes Richter, 1844-1918)

The Jacket of Agnes Richter

Despite the incessant nagging from her mother to get out more and meet suitors, Agnes enjoyed her work in Uncle Pat's shop. As flamboyant as he was, she was centred and quiet, which allowed her to spend hours mending, refining and decorating the frocks, waistcoats, sashes, gloves, shirts and underthings of the  people in Cambridgeshire Mews.

Short Story Sunday: The Man in the Mirror

It is not clear how the mirror came to be in Fran's possession. It was a kerfuffle of hand-me-downs as each owner tried desperately to get rid of the bloody thing and was always relieved to pass it along to the next unsuspecting relative.