Stories for when you're not where you thought you'd be

On the cusp of a sandspit, where land peters out like an unfinished sentence, we stopped for three days. Three days of sharply clear...

(Five days in San Francisco) We sat in the morning mists of the Golden Gate Park gazing at smudged outlines of statues and buildings: the...

It happened when my daughter was three, maybe four.  A friend had organised tickets for an ‘Angelina Ballerina’ meet-the-author session. ...

Extraordinary. Extraordinary how quickly it happens. The guilt. How it catches us out. Creeps up on us sideways and jabs us in the ribs,...