Creative writing
by Kate Swindlehurst
“Course I done it – couldn’t very well deny it, could I, when the crushers burst in and found me with his blood all down the front of my frock and the razor still warm in my hands? Sorry? No I ain’t sorry, not a bit of it, even though he looked so peaceful lying there, that for a moment I forgot all that had happened and imagined I was safe in his arms like it used to be when first we met. Pretty little Polly, he’d whisper, and My Sweet Darlin and other such stuff and I believed him, believed his lies, believed him when he promised to take care of me. But when I told him about the baby coming, he soon changed his tune, called me a slattern and a filthy whore and worse, said it wasn’t his even though I’d lain with no other. So, guilty? Yes I’m  guilty – and make no mistake, I’d do it again in a heartbeat if only to rid the world of one such dissembler. So hang me if you will and my little one inside and remember me as one who loved foolishly and paid the price…”