She would have no peace until the painting was finished. She had never known a piece of her work trouble her so much. To the unenlightened eye, it looked finished, beautiful. But to her, it was a fraction of what it should be, a vapid, flat representation ...

I find it again in you, all these years later, the spark I helped you kindle from a small ember into a pillar of flame. Back then, I recognised that glimmer, though you were unaware of it. It must have singed you from time to time, but you hadn’t realised ...

When the mood strikes her, she could dance anywhere. Most days she wakes with a tune in her head. Something she listened to the previous day, something inexplicably resurfaced from years ago, or something triggered by a dream. She sings in the shower, ...

Although it ended with her, I look back on my time with Hollie with great fondness. The memories of her smile as I opened doors for her, the sparkle in her eyes as I made her laugh, her bony body in my arms are all gifts that I cling to even years later. ...

I look up at her, there on the stage. Illuminated, lit up by the spotlights in the dark of the venue. And luminous, glowing. Somehow both at once; giving off light and basking in it. The band, the walls, everything, fades into insignificant shade. It’s n ...

She left the warmth of the rumpled sheets and rushed to her studio. She must capture her vision before it escaped her. Entirely oblivious to the early hour and her cold, bare feet, she stood before a blank canvas and let the essence of what she’d seen in ...