Comments Posted By sharon london

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In a profession of narcissists he rose to the top by virtue of having the biggest ego of them all. When the courtroom crossfire began he was everything you hoped your lawyer would be; vicious, captivating, intensely detailed and completely lacking in moral fortitude. He would happily persecute the most innocent of victim to bring on a win. Francesca loathed him.

» Posted By sharon london On 12.29.2013 @ 11:24 pm


Her marriage was under resconstruction. She hoped to build something inspiring, something beautiful; but she was starting from a great hole in the ground where her husband had taken a wrecking ball to what once was. Olivia took tentative steps through the rubble, stopped where she thought it might be safe to begin and slammed down her pick axe hard at the ground.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.11.2013 @ 9:55 pm


Janice’s feet barely touched the ground. In this neighbourhood battleground it was difficult to score any sort of a victory, but Vilma’s sudden fall from grace was like winning a long and bloody war. Janice was giddy with elation. She shuffled into her finest spring dress and trotted down the garden path, hoping her beaming face would meet with Lorna and Mrs Francis so that they might pour over, in very fine detail, the evil doings of Mrs Politis and her lover Luke Ricketts.

» Posted By sharon london On 11.05.2012 @ 1:25 pm


Detective Lumley’s lack of results had raised questions at the Office of Public Prosecutions. Pressure from the Premier to collect on illegally obtained funds had intensified; the papers were calling for scalps and his re-election depended on coughing up some serious cash. Helen had promised them a big fish on a silver platter almost seven years ago and yet every single meeting she tiptoed in without a penny of the forty million dollars Matthew Eager had stolen.

The cost of the investigation had spiralled out of control. Her pushing and pulling, digging and poking had so far cost the office over half a million dollars and now, sick to the stomach, she wondered if her big fish was innocent as claimed. She had used every trick in the book and embellished every tiny detail of her investigation in an attempt to retain funding, extrapolating a string of every day business transactions into an elaborate criminal plot. As the barrage of abuse rained down on her she finally realised that she had been taken for a fool.

» Posted By sharon london On 10.18.2012 @ 3:16 pm


It will be a rewarding day when I see his stiff upper lip planted firmly to the floor.

» Posted By sharon london On 10.15.2012 @ 12:20 am

Helen’s home was as shambolic as her mind. She had dreamed as teenager of living in an upper class neighbourhood, but had never seemed to be able to escape a world of cheap furniture, mismatched bed linen and plastic garden chairs. The joy of pretty interiors and any semblance of order eluded her.

» Posted By sharon london On 10.14.2012 @ 3:39 pm


During school hours, when she had the house to herself, she had spent countless hours trawling the net, and had been perilously drawn into the leather strapped world of dominants and submissives.

» Posted By sharon london On 10.09.2012 @ 3:35 pm


Beside her slept a heaving mass of discontentment. SInce he lost his job at the refinery, his motivation had been at such a low ebb, there seemed to be no hope of a return to the man he once was.

» Posted By sharon london On 10.08.2012 @ 9:08 pm


He ran ahead of her with the dog pulling him swiftly towards the green field. It was the last day of the holidays and they had stopped in at the school to pick up a new hat and a new tie for the start of term tomorrow. Without the weight of his schoolbag and the burden of his uniform and teachers eyes upon him he skipped along playfully. Then without thinking, he stopped for a moment and looked at her quizzically and said ‘I feel free’. And that made her happy.

» Posted By sharon london On 10.07.2012 @ 10:13 pm


As a child he suffered badly from asthma. There were long afternoons where my mother had him leant over the sofa, head to the floor, pummelling away at his back for hours to break up the phlegm. And there are foggy memories of ambulances arriving in the middle of the night, rushing him to hospital where he would be hooked up to mask and wires and cocooned in an oxygen tent. Yet he excelled despite his weakness.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.13.2012 @ 2:39 pm


There was always an element of the dysfunctional family about them. As they moved into the city and forged promising careers things seemed to change…for a while.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.12.2012 @ 3:52 pm


His entourage of bodyguards tower above him as he moves through the crowd on a well worn path to Roosters HQ. This is his religion. He has never missed a match. And from here in the confines of this small glass enclosure the so called power brokers of Sydney unite under the influence beer and backslaps. A whole universe of corruption, silent handshakes and slippery deals unfold. One short conversation among men in this place can become another man’s undoing.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.11.2012 @ 2:52 pm


Friendships are rarely binding. Loyalty is a noble concept but so fleeting in reality.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.10.2012 @ 4:52 pm


As a greek boy Nick was out of place on the inner city streets of Brisbane. In order to avoid beatings on the street he made it a daily ritual to train at police boys club which owned the only boxing ring south of the city. When he could muster ring time he would spa against J Ray Leonard and Rooster Ricketson. He never won a round, but taking big hits thickened his skin and besides, he knew he would run rings around them trading pornos and cigarettes when the session was done. He was always going to be a deal maker but to be the best he had to learn how to fight, and fight dirty.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.09.2012 @ 3:24 pm


There were some moments when she managed to remove herself from the weight of it all. Down in the valley, amidst the crackle of the eucalypts she would lie with her face to the sun, the shadows of the leaves dancing on her face, and she would lose herself in the stillness.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.06.2012 @ 3:49 pm


Everything is conditional. It depends upon whether he has done this or she has done that, and at the end of the day most lives are lived in the spirit of self preservation.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.05.2012 @ 5:57 pm


It was a simple plan for men with vast cash reserves and a network of muppets who owed them favours. Sustain the pressure financially until he rolls over. All they had to do was to keep the law suits rolling, which meant accusing him of anything they could think of. None of it had to be true. You just had to keep going until he ran out of money and couldn’t afford a fight. Then you stick the boot in.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.04.2012 @ 7:51 pm


I’m trembling. Seven years on you’d think there would be some respite from this relentless crusade, but the barrage of legal torture just keeps coming. There is no justice; it is a fallacy, a complete myth. All I can hope for now is a miracle.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.03.2012 @ 4:13 pm


In her last hours, when the massive doses of morphine had taken her far from her body she sat upright once, just for a few short seconds and quite clearly told me that she wanted violets, she liked violets. So when the day came when I had to lay my dear, lovely mother to rest I covered her in a purple haze of blooms in every shade of violet I could find.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.02.2012 @ 4:01 pm


Olivia lowered herself carefully, noting the frayed texture and faded stains on the courtroom chairs. She cringed when she noticed that the plastic water jugs held an uncanny resemblance to the bedpans she had just left in Matt’s hospital room. Worse still they had a yellowish tinge around the pouring edge. Surely in modern day Australia we could do better than this she thought to herself. But she had to bring her mind back to the job and focus. Matt’s entire future was in the balance and it was her job to prove that Detective Lambert was corrupt to the core.

» Posted By sharon london On 09.01.2012 @ 5:51 pm


They are my darlings. Those two beautiful children who have suffered so much; who have lost their daddy to a pig ignorant policewomen intent on destroying an innocent man to further her own pitiful career. With scant regard for the consequences, she took their bribes to pay for her kitchen renovation and her second class holiday to Fiji, while my brother beat off violent strangers inside his prison cell and his children cried themselves to sleep.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.30.2012 @ 3:15 pm


She would talk about hope, but that one little word was dynamite, loaded with all the fear and anxiety that she had endured over seven years in hell. She hoped that her brother would find salvation. She hoped that Helen Luscombe would get her comeuppance.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.29.2012 @ 4:36 pm


Five miles down from the mouth of the misty river was a shack on the bank of a small leafy inlet. It was the place he had taken her when he first realised what was about to happen.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.17.2012 @ 6:19 pm


FIlthy Nick was a pig; a bully, but a smart one. Whilst he meddled deep in the heart of the corridors of corporate corruption he kept his face well away from the spotlight, always careful to avoid TV crews and magazine photographers.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.28.2012 @ 3:07 pm


I will refuse to co-operate with her no matter which punishments they choose. I have had it with their games: their lies and the manipulation. Detective Luscombe will need to do better than to pretend she is calling from the tax office.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.27.2012 @ 4:15 pm


She was perfect. Just the sort of dopey detective who would play on his side. He lured her with the promise of glory, a certain promotion and a handsome cash incentive deposited in her locker each month in a brown paper lunch bag.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.23.2012 @ 3:06 pm


When he was alone again he slowly peeled off the paper to reveal a life size painting. He stepped back in horror. Looking straight into his eyes was a mirror image of himself, the face a perfect likeness but the body half man, half pig, emasculated in suspenders and the type os high heel boots you find on a common hooker.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.22.2012 @ 4:01 pm

For years she had been chasing a shadow. When she realised how foolish, how pig-headed and blind she had been, she could not face the humiliation. Helen wished she’d been half as clever as her adversary.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.21.2012 @ 3:48 pm


At last she found a sense of comfort. She looked up and felt the warmth of the sun on her face. Binyarra was place where she could idle away the days painting and reading, finally becoming the person she had always longed to be.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.20.2012 @ 3:00 pm


She was the perfect friend. Effervescent and kind, the type of person you would want to put your arm around in the event of a crisis. I miss her. South Africa is so far away.

» Posted By sharon london On 08.19.2012 @ 4:58 pm

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