“I fold.” Tattered cards fell from my hand. I leaned back, a little too relaxed for someone watching their food rations be scooped up from the centre of the battered table.
By Alison Carey5 years ago in Fiction
“Mummy no, please don’t go. The Monster will come out”. The little boy curled up in his bed, appealing to the sliver of light where his mother stands.
