By Sandy Wilson
The fairground crone gave her three wishes. Eleanor laughed and wished for a holiday. The next morning she won a holiday for two in Magalluf. When she told her dad she was taking Darren, he said, “No you’re not!”
“I wish you were dead!” she said truculently. After her father’s funeral she lay on her bed floating in a sea of misery. Then she remembered; she had one wish left!
She raced back to her dad’s grave. “I wish you were alive!” she shouted. Nothing seemed to happen. Of course, she couldn’t hear her father screaming six feet beneath her.
“I enjoy examining and dissecting emotions whether writing memoirs, fiction or poetry.” – the writer