Vicky Hill
Bio
Londoner, Poet, Children's Writer, Scone-With-Jam-and-Cream Lover
Stories (5/0)
Sanctuary
We are too many, she said, leg swinging. One battered yellow sneaker banged against the dining table, making the forks rattle. Her sock was blue and white striped, her ankle chubby and pink. We are too many and there’s not enough to go round. She said it often after that: on the walk to school, the road humming beside us; in the park, hanging off the tyre swing, her long yellow pigtails dangling in the dirt. In the white-masked line of people waiting to be vaccinated. She was too young for a vaccine and too young for a mask but she stood next to me, scuffing her feet and singing. She held onto my skirt and pulled the necklace she wore tight round her face, like she always did, so that the heart-shaped locket dangled like a tiny silver soul patch and covered the dimple on her chin. Her reedy little voice piped up. Mum, we are too many aren’t we? And I just said yes, darling, like I always did to everything I didn’t know the answer to, and craned my neck to see how many people were in front of us in the queue.
By Vicky Hill3 years ago in Fiction
Afternoon Tea: Claridge's
At about 4pm one day in 1840, Anna, The Seventh Duchess of Bedford, realised she was a bit peckish, poor thing. So she - oh, let's cut to the interesting bit: Afternoon Tea, invented by said Anna, is finger-sized sandwiches, scones, and tea to be eaten in the afternoon from china cups and plates. Also cakes. Lots of teeny-tiny, creamy, shiny, sweet and dainty cakes. It's an offering on the menu at all the best hotels and restaurants in the UK and it's very popular for obvious reasons (the reasons are the cake).
By Vicky Hill3 years ago in Humans