I wrote this story after someone close to me had died. I held this person's hand as they passed. I wanted to capture the profoundness of that moment. When I was little, just before bedtime, my mother used to wrap me in my dressing gown and take me outside to see the stars. “Who made them?”…
Three
This was originally going to be a three-part short story, the first part told from the woman's viewpoint, the second from the man's, the third from the nurse's. I stopped after the first. It felt like enough. Maybe one day I'll finish it. The Woman First, the gift of the anonymous gown, stiff with cheap…
The Belfast Question
This story is based on something that really happened to me to when I went back to Northern Ireland in my 20s. I was born there, and my family shifted to New Zealand when I was four. My father was a Presbyterian minister in Country Armagh (termed “Bandit Country” in 1975 by then Northern Ireland…
Patricia Bell, Author 