Dark Wishes Designs - A Life in Miniature

    The snow was settling now, landing in a thick white carpet on the road ahead. Richard gripped the steering wheel tightly; he could see the faint glow of his new wedding band and felt it dig into his ring finger in an unfamiliar way. Without taking his eyes from the road Richard spoke to his new bride ‘We are going to have to stop, there’s no way we are going to make the castle tonight.’ Catherine (only her mother called her that, she preferred Cat or Cathy) sighed heavily and shifted in her seat. The wedding night in the castle had been the one fairy-tale bit she had been looking forward to after their extremely basic registry office ceremony. ‘I’m sorry Cat, I know you are disappointed’ Richard said quietly, feeling the muscles in his arms starting to tire, he had been driving for three hours since they left their reception to try and get ahead of the weather. Cat glanced at her husband sideways from under her remaining wedding day curls, she could see he was ...

  Arthur Baker liked a simple life, a cup of tea and some biscuits, his beloved checked shirts   and the solace of his comfy old armchair in his shed where he would read his paper and make plans for his garden. Alice Baker liked hats, afternoon tea and the finer things in life but her husband didn’t like spending money very much, so she mostly had to make do. ‘Arthur James Baker!’ Alice would shout on the rare occasion she brought him tea, ‘You will die in that shed!’ Arthur would tut and pretend not to hear her while Alice seethed and plotted his demise. Alice was Arthurs second wife, his first wife Marie had tragically died in a boating accident on a lake. Arthur thought Alice was sweet and loving when he met her but really, she had heard he had plenty of money and wanted nothing more than a life of fine clothing and lunching with her friends. They didn’t have children, Alice soon made it plain she couldn’t abide the thought of children and their sticky fingers and...

    Rosalie Miller lived on a farm in Iowa with her mother Mary. An only child with no father in the picture, she had not had the best childhood. Her mother was overbearing and in no way loving though becoming pregnant and giving birth to Rosalie at 18 and being banished to her grandparent’s farm, where they still lived, must have made her tough. Love always passed Rosalie by, not that she wasn’t attractive, quite the opposite with her flaming red curls and deep blue eyes. However she had long since given up hope of meeting someone especially now with so many men away at war but the long hot summer of 1940 proved exceptional in many ways. Frank Wilson came to the farm in his new red Chevrolet pickup that summer in search of casual work and in a moment of weakness Mary took him on to help around the place, mending fences and general handiwork. She even occasionally cooked him eggs served with thick cut ham and homemade bread ‘to set him up for the day’ Rosalie liked...