It had been nine weeks, three days and five hours since James had died. From the moment Adam had been told of James’ accident all he had felt was emptiness. The so-called ‘stages of grief’ had proven to be a disappointing no-show. He looked around the living room; setting of countless memories: raucous parties, blistering
She wants out. Tells him so. He loves her too much. She belongs to him. If she leaves, he’ll track her down. Kill her. Tells her more than once. She believes him. * * * Two years of abuse. A slow ruthless awakening leaves her nights staring at the ceiling listening to his ragged breath
It’s hard to be a mother. You don’t really study for it. You can’t tell people: I have BA in mothering with honours. That might be why some mothers feel so inadequate. Or why some others feel the need to get validation from others. Or why some fall apart. No book or NCT course will
Peggy longs to be elsewhere. Today, even Charmaine, her WorkSolutions adviser, seems bored. Or if not bored then fatalistic: she’s picking at her earlobes and examining the flakes of skin on the tip of her finger. They are meeting not at Charmaine’s offices, but at the neutral territory of West Herts College, because the WorkSolutions
I knew mom wasn’t handling the divorce well when my brother had to toss her Temptations before she would help him with his homework. Mom would jump up from a crouched position and snag the snacks mid-air and chew away. She chased and ate mice before fixing dinner, and one time she trapped a sparrow
