"We'll just leave Santa's mince pie here," Granny says, squeezing his duvet under his chin.
Ian isn't convinced, at six years old he's heard the playground rumours. So he'd made a plan. Granny will never miss a few of her special 'night, night' pills.
"I really hope Santa eats it all up."
#WriteCBC

Colourful wildflowers blanket the meadow; their floral scents hugging me. Just as he said, a perfect place for our first date. Even an unexpected spring shower is warm & refreshing. A grey cloud momentarily blocks the sun. My skin prickles. It’s only then I realise… the rain is falling up. #WriteCBC

I was looking after my nephews. They are pre-teen and early teens hormonal whirlwinds of disasters.
I used my mum's magic weapon.
Their response...
'Yay, McDonald's time.'
I forgot my brother is their father, and he's as soft as our dad.

The small penny warms in my palm. Its coppery taste taints my lips. A kiss for luck. It was his before it was mine. A silly gift before he left on his last trip, never to return. He shouldn't have shared his luck with me. Tear in eye, I close the draw. #WriteCBC