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Unread Messages - She Never Stopped Writing. She Just Stopped Sending.

By S A Spencer -
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  A mother’s silence wasn’t absence — it was love, saved in drafts. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions :  The Pink Mutiny ,  The Black Waters ,  Dream In Shackles She typed the message, paused, then deleted it. “Are you eating well?” Too clingy. “I miss you.” Too needy. “Can I call?” Too desperate. Margaret stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The draft folder blinked open, revealing a quiet graveyard of unsent words. Forty-seven messages. All to her daughter. All unsent. She closed the app and placed the phone face-down on the kitchen bench. The kettle hissed behind her, steam curling into the morning light. She poured the water into her mug, the scent of chamomile rising like memory. The house was silent, save for the ticking clock and the occasional creak of old timber. Her daughter hadn’t visited in six months. Not since the promotion. Not since the new apartment. Not since the world got louder and Margaret’s voice g...
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The Wedding That Almost Became a Crime - When Love Meets Biology, The Truth Can Be Deadly.

By S A Spencer -
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  One test. One secret. One wedding that almost didn’t happen. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions :  The Pink Mutiny ,  The Black Waters ,  Dream In Shackles The rain hit Carlton like it had a personal grudge. Sheets of water hammered the chapel roof, turning the courtyard into a shallow lake and sending guests sprinting from their cars with jackets over their heads. Inside, the air smelled of roses, hairspray, and nerves. But Amelia Hart barely noticed any of it. She was staring at her phone, her pulse thudding in her ears. A single message from her GP glowed on the screen: “Call me back immediately. It’s about the test.” She’d done the pre‑marital genetic screening because the doctor insisted. “Just routine, love. Good to know these things before you start a family.” She’d laughed. Liam had laughed. They were both healthy, both annoyingly compatible, both convinced nothing could possibly go wrong. But the doctor had called three times in the last ...
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The Empty Plate - When Love Waits Too Long, Even Silence Begins To Speak

By S A Spencer -
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  One empty chair. One forgotten promise. One unexpected knock. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions :  The Pink Mutiny ,  The Black Waters ,  Dream In Shackles The curry had gone cold. Mohan sat alone at the dining table, staring at the untouched plate across from him. Steam no longer rose from the bowl of lamb rogan josh he’d simmered for hours, the scent of cloves and cinnamon now dulled by the evening chill creeping through the open kitchen window. The roti, wrapped in foil, had gone stiff. The salad wilted in its bowl. His own plate was half-eaten, but he hadn’t tasted a thing. He glanced at the clock. 7:42 PM. Sunday dinner. Like every Sunday for the past three years. Except his son hadn’t come. Again. Mohan reached for the glass of water, his fingers brushing the rim before pulling back. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want anything. The house felt too quiet, too still, like it was holding its breath. He looked at the empty chair opposite him — ...
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The Missed Call - When A Single Missed Ring Becomes The Turning Point Of A Lifetime.

By S A Spencer -
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  Sometimes the smallest silence speaks the loudest. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions :  The Pink Mutiny ,  The Black Waters ,  Dream In Shackles The kettle clicked off just as Margaret’s phone lit up on the kitchen bench. She froze, wooden spoon hovering over the saucepan, heart thudding with a ridiculous, hopeful flutter. For a moment she didn’t breathe. The screen glowed in the dim morning light filtering through the blinds. Unknown number. Her shoulders sagged. Not him. Not today either. Steam curled from the pot of porridge she’d stirred out of habit, though she rarely finished more than a few spoonfuls these days. The house felt too big, too quiet, too full of echoes that used to be laughter. She wiped her hands on her apron and shuffled to the phone, tapping the screen with a sigh. A telemarketer. She hung up. The silence that followed felt heavier than the call itself. She glanced at the clock. Nearly 9. He’d be at work by now. Or may...
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