The Written Word Group

  No Regrets A Story by Jeremy Patton ( Edith Piaf was born in December 1915 on, according to her autobiography, a gendarme’s cape. This is his story .) I love Babette, of course I do, we are married after all, and I have no regrets about that.  And she loves me too, but sometimes she shocks me. Where did she learn to swear like that? She isn’t a fish wife, her father was a well respected policeman, but when she’s angry, nothing holds her back.  Last night is a fine example.  I got in from my shift at midnight, an hour later than I should have, and before she could start, I handed her my cape and told her to wash it. Yes “told”. Why would I “ask” her? She’s my wife for goodness sake, I don’t walk the streets of Paris to do my own washing. The guys at the gendarmerie would have a good laugh at that.  Anyway, it wasn’t being told what to do that set her off, it was the state of my cape. It was slimy, bloody and shitty. I didn’t help matters, she couldn...

Mary Carter Langtree was sitting with her eyes closed against the penetrating glare of the October sun. But for a nip in the easterly breeze, she had considered it to be a perfect day for the time of year. She had dressed in a light weight, floral summer dress for the unseasonable warmth but to be on the safe side, had wrapped a pink woollen cardigan around her shoulders. Her greying hair was cut short and displayed a pair of small, but nonetheless attractive, ruby earrings which perfectly matched the pendant necklace that rested below her chin.  It had not been her intention to fall into slumber but, slumber she did with her mouth slightly ajar and emitting a faint snore. Had she been able to witness herself as passers by did, she would’ve been mortified. Her legs crossed at the ankles, she sat reclined against the wooden backrest of the bench which, when she opened her eyes, afforded a view of the English Channel, busy with the comings and goings of ferry boats and leisure craf...

  At sixty-five, Claire stood alone by the seashore gazing at the horizon, the red sun rose to greet a new day. In her coat pocket was a letter addressed to someone dear who had not spoken for many years. She wanted to rebuild the bridges that had been broken, before it was too late.  Claire heard through the grape vine that her friend of many years was unwell. Determined to let bygones be bygones, she decided to make one final attempt to re-establish their friendship.  The night before, she had picked up her mobile phone, opened her contacts and searched for the name Caroline, and dialled the number.    “Hello Caroline, it's me, Claire?”  On the other end of the line, she heard heavy breathing. Then silence dropped like a guillotine. The line went dead. The misunderstanding that had torn them apart was over something that could've been discussed and resolved long ago. But both women were stubborn and proud individuals and after their fa...

I'd been thinking of her, even dreamt of her, that's what's weird about it. I was walking by the harbour when someone came up behind and overtook me. I thought it was a young girl, but as she passed, I caught a glimpse and knew it was her. Anita. Tight black jeans on thin skinny legs lead to a pert gate. Time, gravity and estrogen had been kind on her arse too. It'd been seven years since I'd gazed upon it, but it was exactly the same, she was the same, or at least looked it...My back was killing me, that's me main excuse, and she was wearing large headphones so I couldn't call out. I might've tried to get her attention but part of me wondered if she'd already recognised me and decided not to say anything, so I thought fuck it, and buried me resentment in anger. This trail of thought cemented and my bitterness grew. Hate is not a strong enough word for what me heart-mind felt, but fuck it, it'll have to do... Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate......

  He was chained to the death chair. Labelled a violent man.  A convicted terrorist. Waiting to die. Waiting for the poison to be injected into his system. There had been no jury, just a hanging judge. He’d unsuccessfully defended himself. Been warned against it. It never goes well. But Avian Gronk had committed to defend himself against all the bullshit charges of terrorism. ‘The Southern Wetlands Cooperative Terrorist Attack,’ it had been called in all the tabloids. The Judge read out the charges he had been convicted on before his execution. “On the night of the 15 th of August at approximately midnight, you took part in a raid against the offices of, 'The Southern Wetlands Cooperative.' Herein you murdered the president and vice president and destroyed their IT network. By blowing up their offices with explosives. You left a manifesto from the, Avian Action Group on site. Then you posted the action via TikTok and YouTube.” Avian Gronk had denied all charges. He wa...

Lily has one year left before sitting in  her GCSEs and will be taking her mock exams after Christmas. She goes to the library after school to revise and also to keep warm. Her house is cold, damp and has poor lighting which prevents her from keeping focused on her studies. Lily was born in the poorest and most  deprived parts of Liverpool where unemployment is high and crime is the profession for many youngsters. She is the youngest of three children, all living at home. Her oldest sister Olivia finds it difficult to keep jobs longer than four weeks. Her brother, Leo, has no ambition either and has never worked a day in his life. He is the favourite son and he does no wrong in his mum's eyes. He is always asking for money to keep his drinking and smoking habits.  Susan, her mum, cleans public toilets early mornings and does the washing in the afternoon for the residents at a nursing home. George, her father, also has two jobs. He is the washer upper...

Lidia woke up early on Easter Friday. It was the Easter long weekend and all ten BBQs in the picnic areas were booked for the entire week.     She checked that everything was spot on and ready for the clients when they arrived. Her perfectionism and keen eye for detail has made the business successful.  She went through her usual checklist:  BBQ areas cleaned and stocked with coal - checked  Bins emptied - checked Patio areas swept - checked  Shop stocked with essentials - checked  "I can't believe it seems only yesterday Rob bought me this land," she thought, "and now, five years after returning to my homeland, we are on the map under the name Parque Copihue in Peñuelas."   She was finishing her routine check on the last picnic area, when the first family showed up. To her surprise, it was the same couple who had stopped five years earlier to ask if the place was open to the public while they were having a BBQ. She re...

Joseph Millerton had always felt lucky. Born under a glowing star, is what his mom used to say. He would win prizes at school. And when he went to work for the Ford Motor company, on his first day there, he won a new car in a country wide Ford lottery. It was around then he started wearing green. Luck of the Irish his workmates would say. As they tried to avoid selling him any on-going lottery ticket. It didn’t help. During a heavyweight boxing match the odds on one of the boxers winning on points was enormous. So, his workmates fixed it, so Joseph got that option. And oh, how they laughed at him. And oh, how they cried when the said boxer duly went the 15 rounds and won the fight. Getting engaged he decided he needed to cash in his Prize bonds. But he could not get it done in time, which resulted in Joseph winning a substantial amount at the next draw. He won another car. Then he won the lottery. £2million on a lucky dip. When interviewed on local radio, as to how he would spend his...

Up at the crack of dawn. Wrapping Max up for the cold weather outside. A train and a bus trip three times a week. To ensure we snared a place in our local kindergarten. We'd moved from the centre of Copenhagen to Ishoj. Which lay, way out in the suburbs. And we could not get a place for Max. So, we kept him in the Copenhagen kindergarten and Ishoj had to pay.  Which meant our trip three times a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Out early in the morning. Back home and then back out in the afternoon to pick him up. It suited me perfectly as I was unemployed, between jobs as they say. This blackmail pressure was put on Ishoj to come up with a place, as they had to pay full wack for the Copenhagen kindergarten. I was on the final leg of our bus journey one morning, when I saw her. She was on a big Christiania bike and had a kid in the front. I would have known her anywhere. She was as sharp as a tack and had been studying to be a lawyer when I met her. Met her mom and her divorced da...