When I took the photo it was still light. Tom threw his arms around me and twirled us both around, our shrieks and laughter echoed on the mountain. Ten minutes later he was dead. Torn to pieces by an unexpected pack of hungry wolves. None of them touched me. They circled, growling but left me alone. Even when I ran to the trees and attempted to climb, slipping back down the icy bark. Ignoring screams, snowballs I managed to throw. Dragging Tom's body away they left me alone to my grief, shock, sorrow, disbelief and paralysing fear.

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The water was clear. Crystal clear, not so unlike the crystal ball the gypsy read my fate from. I just so wanted to jump in the water. To breathe. To drink. To laugh. To swim.
Ryan begged me not to jump, but I didn't listen...I couldn't. He controlled so much of my life. I wanted to get away. And yet, I loved him still. The clear water was enticing. And brought feelings of hope to my heart.
"Please, Ry, please," I begged. He came towards me and I pressed my lips to the lower corner of his. I felt his...

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Midnight on the Roof. That's where he'll be. I know Santa Claus is real. I know that because he's my Dad.

It was small things at first. I made a list:
1) A wistful smile on Mum's lips each Christmas Eve. 
2) The way she hummed "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus" without noticing.
3) The fact we ALWAYS put out cookies and beer for him before Christmas Day. And a carrot for Rudolf.
4) My last real memory of him dressed in his large red gown and hat with white fur trim telling Mum he had to go. His...

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"I'm dead, really dead. Not the dead in all those stupid books people read- the kind of dead that means you'll be done in all of five minutes.

I was still waiting for him to return from the store, but I knew he wouldn't.
I heard the crash from the garage, the start up of the chainsaw. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Crying. I had sent the kids to my mother's thankfully.
I heard the basement door open. I waited, alone in the kitchen. I heard the footsteps through the hall. And there he was. Not the man who left, but a...

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There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. That's what she told me most days and as normal, I ignored her. I presumed she was talking about her reflection who she believed another person, a friend. Dementia steals the life force. She was no longer the woman I knew anymore, just a small petulant child to take care of. One that could look sweet and innocent but could take a knife to me if she fancied. She spent all day in her bedroom talking to the mirror, packing and unpacking strange old suitcases, oblivious to the fact she was...

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What happens when life finally becomes too much to bear? He thought about it a great deal - but was unable to put hiself into those shoes. What happens when you feel death is more important than life? Or is that the wrong question to ask, he wondered. Perhaps the real question was: why had she decided that death on her own was preferable to life with him?
He had come home that day - an ordinary day like any other day - and been surprised not to find her in her usual place in the kitchen. Every time he...

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The sky was blue, the grass was green and the little clouds were as fluffy as the picture in a child's reading book. All was well with the world. And on her swing, she could see above the park, above the neat hedges and the flowering bushes. She could, as she swung higher still, see over the row of terraced houses and into the street beyond. Over the flowering cherry trees and the neat gardens with their blossoming plants, over the heads of the middle class and middle aged gardeners and housewives and shoppers and busy bodies of the suburban...

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£18,000. That is what the twisted gold wire bracelet was worth to me. Commonly known as a torc. Iron age. It was easy to steal and by the time anyone noticed the absence, it was being despatched by courier to a new home. That night I couldn't sleep. I've never felt guilty taking antiques from the public yet I couldn't get the bracelet out of my mind.

Found by schoolboys looking for treasure. Chance in a million. One of the boys suffered a family tragedy and this unexpected discovery brightened up his life. I couldn't stop thinking about the personal...

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Never leave the house looking less than your best. It is this way that we show respect for others (paraphrased from Tom Ford)

We are respectful of your anger, we are wary of your rage - we are aware of our own imperfections. The sight of us naked , raw, unshorn will sicken you send into a blind fury of cataclysm.

So we buy hats

And thank you for the many choices.

My sweet Lord

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I knew that my outfit was risky, the plunging black bra exposing large breasts and cleavage. White sheer dress with black embroidery. The patterned hat, sharp, long painted fingernails and matching blood red lipstick may have looked good in a lounge bar but my fiance's grandmother was not impressed. Her husband was though. He couldn't keep his eyes off my chest and received a withering glance from his wife and got told to make the drinks in another room.

I never guessed that Bob's family were so rich. The white remote gates gave it away. I imagined they would live...

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