That Sadie Thing
There was nothing special about Sadie; except that I met her. I can picture her right now. She wore a black suit and carried a briefcase; but the handbag she carried was a small red and yellow flower slung diagonally across her chest, and the watch she wore, peeking out from the cuff of her jacket, was cheap and silver with a pink face and no numbers. I was intrigued by these little touches of individualism nudging out from the sombre facade, but that wasn't the reason I met her.
by Annalisa Crawford
Annalisa lives in Cornwall and works in Plymouth as a library assistant. Between working and raising her two children she sometimes gets the chance to write. She has had stories published in New Fiction, Raconteur and Story Cellar, and enjoyed some small competition successes. Although short stories are her passion, she continues to strive for the perfect novel idea.