Category Archives: Short Stories

“You can never blow bubbles when you are angry,” my grandmother intoned. She kept of bottle of solution and a wand on the kitchen windowsill.

“It helps me calm down when I am upset.”

Standing at the funeral the frustration of grief disrupted the rhythm of my breathing. A short, sharp inhalation held, drawing the wand to my lips and slowly, deliberately exhaling.

A steady stream of bubbles rushed forward before settling in the hands of the breeze. They rose and danced before fading and disappearing.

Old Ben’s formica table peeled at the yellowing edges where the rusted border gaped and collected fragments of cereal. Stacked slightly off-centre was Ben’s spartan crockery and cutlery. They were the remains of a wedding present which had over the years lost pieces through neglect, ignorance and argument. All that remained was a single place setting for one; the simplicities of a widower. Beside the stack was a white linen napkin, rolled, and kept in place by his grandfather’s monogrammed napkin ring. The door bell chimed its tune and the laughter of grandchildren frolicked outside, wanting to come in.