#WriteCBC Magpies steal treasure: it’s in their nature. So do people, or at least certain kinds. Security cameras wink beady black eyes at me as I skirt the edge of the museum to avoid their hawk-like gaze. These magpies will never give up the riches they’ve taken. It’s my job to steal them back

She found them nestled in a shoebox. Strange he kept them, the man who saved nothing: hating clutter, hating 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. But infidelity brought out the worst in him: the man who scolded his wife for printing too many holiday photos caught hiding Polaroids of naked women under the bed where they slept

#WriteCBC The front is charming, with a handpainted sign and antique trestle tables full of battered Grisham’s and old encyclopaedias. Inside is welcoming, if not a little haphazard, with tomes stacked to the ceiling. But beyond them is a discrete, dark curtain: and it hides more than just books

#writecbc The front door lies. It doesn’t match what’s inside: not in look, not in feel, not in taste. It’s worn, with chipping paint and a scuffed lock. But once it’s opened, I see meticulously organised bookshelves lining a bright hall. Parquet floors. Lilies. It looks grand. It isn’t meant for me

So clever!

#5ActFestiveStory Ella knew it was Jack Frost. He had trapped them in snow, misdirected them with fake apologies. But now she finally remembered. Her Mum- Mother Nature- gripped her arm tightly as she filled the air with shards of fiery light. A strangled cry pierced the air. And Jack Frost was dead

#5ActFestiveStory ‘Leave?! But- the weather!’ Ella’s protests were ignored as her mother pushed her towards the door. They headed out, wading through packed snow almost up to Ella’s waist. Suitcases abandoned, they almost made it to the church when they saw him in the middle of the road: Krampus

👏🏻

#5ActFestiveStory Getting no answer, Ella snapped the wireless off, killing the hymns. Her mother was staring at the photos lining the walls. Grainy sepia faces looked wanly back at her. ‘It can’t be from him,’ Ella said gently, just as the lights began to flicker and the radio turned itself back on

#5ActFestiveStory It wasn’t the last. Every day thereafter until Christmas Eve another dropped through the letterbox. Apology after apology sent from every corner of the globe. The stamps revealed their origin. A fading magenta Eiffel Tower: Je suis désolé. An elderly man with a red sash: Perdón.

Thank you! ❤️