I’m sorry, but do I know you?
Motherhood Roberta Azzopardi Motherhood Roberta Azzopardi

I’m sorry, but do I know you?

The question turned and echoed, fighting its way over the clamour in my head. I saw him, my boy, climbing the rope ladder and I was about to go to him, knowing he had never managed on his own. But look - he’s done it. And I falter in my steps.

Read More
And then there were two
Motherhood Roberta Azzopardi Motherhood Roberta Azzopardi

And then there were two

How often have I sat down to start this piece? No, how often have I thought about writing it? God knows. I’ve written the opening line in my head so many times it should probably win a Booker at this point.

Read More