Her daughter had just fallen back asleep in the crook of her elbow when Mariam noticed the man on the bench in the courtyard below.
The night she died, all our phones were turned off.
Hidden in the shadows of the forest, Bo peeked under the low-hanging branches of a tree and watched the village children play a game.
I open my eyes and I am tangled in the sheets, books upside down on the floor.
Most people don’t expect cats and dogs to get along.
2020 was a year like no other.
Sometimes I look at my dogs, their furry, clawy feet, their silly noses, their ridiculous tails, and I think, why?
As I reach for the doorbell, my phone bleeps with a text and my head instantly fills with a roll call of possibilities.
“LET’S KILL him again in slow motion,” I said.
I am Saroo Brierley’s second mother. He came into the lives of me and my husband, John, as a six-year-old from India, making us parents for the first time.
‘Here comes the princess, always dressed for a ball,’ the nurse affectionately said to my grandmother-in-law as we passed in the corridors of the Montefiore Jewish nursing home.
Troy. The most marvellous kingdom in all the world. The Jewel of the Aegean.
‘Normal is a cycle on a washing machine’ is something my dad always told me.
As the new year of 1910 moved closer to its second month, the world marvelled that there had been so few deaths in Paris when the River Seine rose more than eight metres and flooded the city.
I was born into utter poverty in Mao’s Communist China, one of seven sons of hardworking peasant parents in the north-east.
The sickle moon had just slipped below the western horizon when the file of mounted men emerged from the trees.
My first ever race could have been a complete disaster.
I always thought the moment you met the great love of your life would be like the movies.