Fractured: A Flash Fiction Story

Annabeth shuts the book and leans over Iris, placing a kiss on top of her damp forehead. She is running a fever and will surely wake up overnight when the medication wears off. It pricks Annabeth’s conscience to know that Iris will cry out for “Daddy” until she remembers that he no longer lives here…

What The Looking Glass Reflects: A Flash Fiction Story

Carol liked to stand in corners when she was anxious. It calmed her down to tighten her focus on a dried drip of paint, the seam in wallpaper, or a crack in the wall of the visiting Professor’s house. Her husband was a professor of History at Sweetgum University. The booming emptiness of the house, like a quarry, played on Carol’s nerves…

My Place: Chapter 3

Krysta opened her heavy eyes and glanced at the clock to her right. The bright red numbers did little to warm her heart as they read 5.45am, which meant she’d had just 5 hours of sleep, AGAIN. She could have closed her eyes and slept all day if it hadn’t been for the little size fives in ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’ socks, just 3 inches from her face, and the chubby little index finger poking her in the ribs.

Water: A Short Story for World Mental Health Day

Around the world it’s Mental Health Day today (or yesterday for us Aussies!) and where I live in QLD, it’s mental health week. I believe depression, anxiety and other mental health conditions are a a bigger part of many people’s lives than we know or can even fathom. Motherhood in particular can be an emotionally draining rollercoaster at times and many of us can suffer in silence for years, believing that no-one understands or could ever help us out of the dark abyss that threatens to steal every moment that was meant for joy. But there are people who understand, those who have been there…

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. 

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?

My Mum Life Story: PART 1- Childhood Childhood and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ve probably been wondering ‘who is this lady?’ and ‘what’s her deal?’ Most of my posts have been about other people and other things with a few little anecdotal tidbits thrown in for personal relevance and an attempt to ‘relate’ to you, my audience. Sure, there have…

Blogaversary

Today marks the one week anniversary of our Mum Life Stories blog! Yipee, happy anniversary to us. We are happy to say that this week we reached 350 views, received our first contribution from a writer, who was the winner of the first hashtag competition and we got connected to many different people through Facebook,…