Her mother stood in the kitchen, tears of frustration spilling down her face. One suitcase, packed for six of them. Cora stared at it and wondered how they would live, where they would live.

Shivering with excitement, steeled for disappointment. Aged ten, Cora knew that nothing ever really changed.

Her father didn’t come home that night. He had their only car, an unreliable Ford Escort so they had no way of making their escape from their remote bungalow.

The suitcase was gone by morning but he was back, whey-faced and wild-eyed.



2 thoughts on “Hope

  1. Thanks Melissa – it’s just an excerpt from one of my (many) unfinished stories! Sometimes I like to liberate a paragraph and send it out into the world to take a breath or two… 😉

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