Winnie Stubbs

Joined February 2021

3 stories

Stories (3)

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At Alfonso's
The smoke invaded Sydney as the jacaranda flowers left the trees and painted the pavements purple. Gradual at first, then all at once – coating the city in a cloud that blocked out the sun: a warm, red filter over our existence.
By Winnie Stubbs5 years ago in Humans
Cece And Me
The dense Dorset mist tightens its grip around the house, creeping in through keyholes and disappearing with the woodsmoke that warms the inside air. The faint clank of stacking china echoes down the corridor, and an image of the lamp on the side table forms on the frost-bitten window pane: an ornate, gold-plated mask over the hostile night. It’s just the two of us – Cece and me – the small black notebook on the floral footstool between us. Embers pop shyly in the fireplace, as if hoping we won’t notice. Theresa, our old chocolate lab, is snoring on the low, striped sofa which lines the wall on the far side of the sitting room.
By Winnie Stubbs5 years ago in Families
The Cost of Cowries
Thin clouds – the kind that form in feathery wisps and disappear before you can be sure they were ever there at all – dance gracefully along the deep blue line of the horizon. That’s the way I start every story, have done since I was about eleven. I haven’t got an imagination, which is why it's fortunate that so many of my memories of our childhood happen to be beautiful.
By Winnie Stubbs5 years ago in Humans