After The Fire: A True Story

I was seven years old when my mother nearly burned down our house. My brother, sister and I were watching TV in the den while Mom was getting dinner ready. She poured oil into a heavy cast iron pan and set the pan on an open flame to heat.

Knitting for Leo – A Short Story

My mother taught me to knit. 

Back then, knitting was a necessity, not some artisan craft like it is today. She would get patterns from Women’s magazines and cheap wool from the market. She knitted my clothes – sweaters, cardigans, even skirts. I was the eldest. As soon as I could hold a pair of needles, I was knitting booties for my baby brother and sister. 

A Place: A Micro-Story

Thanks to Fiona M. Jones for her latest submission “A Place’. A charming micro-story about the adventures children find in ordinary places. Fiona M. Jones is a regular contributor to Mum Life Stories, some of her titles include ‘Mud‘ & ‘Tiny Green Apples‘. She is a part-time teacher, a parent, and a spare-time writer, with…

Mom’s Girdle: A Micro Story

Mom was always losing or fighting with her 18-hour Playtex girdle. It seemed as if this contraption had a mind of its own, wanting to be seen, calling attention to itself, almost like a neon light flashing from a bar window.

The Scent of Innocence: A Flash Fiction Story

Emma knew there were 11 children in the cemetery. She had counted. She needed to know she wasn’t alone in her suffering. Sometimes she wondered what their stories were, how their families were coping. She never saw anyone at their graves. Did nobody love them anymore? Were they lonely? Occasionally a toy would appear, leaning against a headstone, but she seemed to be the only parent who visited her child regularly. Would she ever stop coming?

Batting Mice Around: A Micro Story

There was water rising in the basement. Cold, dark, murky, slimy, water. Being a woman alone, a single mother, without a man, she had no idea what to do about it.

My Place: Chapter 1 Of My First Novel

Krysta rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. Running them down to the bridge of her nose, she applied pressure to the well-defined cartilage. Her meagre efforts to ease the throbbing headache that threatened to reduce her to a sobbing mess, were futile.

Robbery: A Micro Story

A short and sweet story about the meaningful things we allow our children to steal from us.

DANCING SHADOWS: A Short Story

She stared fixedly at the beige jacquard wallpaper that clothed the far wall of her room. The subtlest of smile’s tugged at the faintly wrinkled corners of her mouth as she observed the sunlight dancing with the shadows of the tree branches in an exuberant waltz.

Now You See Me: A Short Story

Outside, here in the garden, the fresh air has blown away the cobwebs and the sunshine has fused her neural wiring. Pulling up the roots, teasing apart the strangled knots, picking up the windfalls and turning over and over the soil that clouds the water. I stand there, at the top of the path, watching. She hasn’t seen me yet. I don’t want to jinx this moment where, in this one place, her world makes sense. She’s tiny now, with the tenacity and strength of a little sparrow.