Laura can’t sleep. She listens to the familiar noises upstairs and when she is sure they are both asleep, she gets up and walks into the spare room. She sighs, and reaches to open the window, pulling her dressing gown tighter as the cold air hits her. She takes out a cigarette and smokes, looking into the dark. The cold air is sharp against the heat of the tobacco as she inhales.

Exhales, thinking.

The small field behind the house slopes down to a river edged by trees, the water flowing freely while the only sound in the house is the gentle up and down rhythm of her husband and son’s breathing, almost perfectly in time together.

Her phone, on silent, flashes a message.

It’s four in the morning. She replies, then after a short while, when the sounds of the street begin waking, she deletes the text conversation and goes back to bed. Her husband stirs, so she curls onto her side and waits for him to rise and get ready for work.

After he leaves, and before their son, Sam, wakes, she thinks about her husband’s affair, when she was pregnant with Sam. She remembers feeling very little when he told her, it was a relief to have her suspicions confirmed. So then, she wonders, does he know about her and Mark? Why wouldn’t he? While she waits for Sam to wake up, her phone flashes with another message.

'We need to talk.'

Mark, her lover, for want of a better word, call him what you will, her bit on the side, - made the ultimatum two days ago. The conversation plays in her head as she scrapes at a stubborn mark on a plate. With a fierce push, she scratches the enamel. Their best set, a wedding present. Annoyed, she puts the plate to one side for the suds to dry. A few minutes later, loading clothes into the washing machine Laura has the urge to climb into the tub, and curl up and rinse herself clean.

'I can’t leave him Mark. You know I can’t. It’s difficult.'

The field at the back of the house is being ploughed, the tractor making a constant background noise. It seems like only minutes since the hay from summer was harvested and rolled into balls and carted away. Laura and Mark had made love many times in the field behind the house, hidden in the grass while Sam slept. At first she felt guilty, but after a few weeks the guilt became habit and the habit became something she accepted as part of her life. An enjoyable, exciting part of her life. Now the grass was gone, the black soil exposed and uneven. She hears Sam waking and snaps back to her present life. She runs up the stairs to see him.

'Mummy...'

'Morning sleepy head.' She smiles, his blonde hair ruffled, and half open eyes never failing to raise her mood. 'Did you have a good sleep darling?'

Sam stretches his arms out and half falls out of his bed. How quickly she thinks, from cot to bed. How quickly they grow. She pulls him to her.

'Mummy loves you baby, do you want some milk?'

'Please mummy, hungry.. and cartoons.'

Of course, cartoons. Although he is getting too big for her, she carries Sam downstairs, nestled on her hip, his warm breath on her neck. She kisses him,' Mummy loves you sweetheart, are you OK'

'Yes,'

He giggles as Laura pulls silly faces at him, and settles comfortably on the sofa with a blanket. She hands him the warm milk and scrolls through the channels until she finds the cartoons he likes.

'Cartoons, Mummy, cartoons.'

Sam bounces up and down to show his delight, then settles with his blanket, milk and favourite cuddly toy.

'I’m just going upstairs darling she says. Back in a minute.'

Her phone rings. She looks out across the field behind their garden. In Spring, her husband made a path at the side of the field down to the river though he added a gate at the bottom of the garden, a necessity when Sam began walking. He’d reached the toddler stage, and needed penning in. A wandering eye can be trouble she thought.

'Have you made a decision yet?'

Mark was insistent. 'Meet me,' he said. 'It’s beautiful today. We’ll have an hour when Sam goes down. We can talk it over.'

Laura looked at her reflection in the window, saw herself with the phone held against her ear, a cigarette in her mouth.

It’s difficult. She blows smoke in deep thought. 'Mark, please don’t make me do this.'

'I won’t settle for second best.'

She considers this for a few moments, then, stubbing the butt into the ashtray, adds 'Leave me alone,' and ends the call.

Sam was asleep when she heard the knock on the window. She knew it was Mark, and opened the door.

'Ten minutes,' he said, holding out his hand. 'That’s all I ask.'

They walked along the field. Laura was conscious not to go too far, for the trees obscured her view to the garden. 'You can’t end it like this he said, I mean. You just can’t.'

Suddenly, the past week’s tension reached a limit and Laura began to sob. She buried her head into Mark’s big shoulders and he held her while she cried.

'I don’t know what to do,' she said, 'I don’t know what to do.'

He eased her to the ground, and he hugged her, himself torn by the situation. Seeing her like this was upsetting for him, and he held her, they both began to cry, and weeks of emotion poured out of them, both stuck in an impossible situation, both knew there was no easy solution.

Sam woke and clambered off the sofa looking for his Mum. He went into the garden but still couldn’t see her. Sucking on his milk bottle he continued through the gate left open at the bottom of the garden and walked towards the river where he’d fed ducks with his mum when the sun was hot. He liked ducks, and he liked the river but when he got there his Mum was nowhere to be seen.

He slipped and fell, and in this moment, all of their decisions were made.

• 2460jehan: the sun is pouring through the windows, and it's too early to be awake/but you rise anyway. you need the money./get dressed, drink your tea, make lunch/in the miracle machine of the blender.
• Tauren: The veil that separates genius from madness is gossamer thin as a spiders web and just as fragile
• Angelite: A young couple in love Travelling across the border Soaking up glorious sunsets Embracing their future hopes and dreams A victim of domestic violence Fleeing across the border Hoping for a life free from fear Desperate to give her children a better life Solders serving their country Destruction across the border Bravely sacrificing their lives Wondering, will they ever see their families again A group of friends Across the border on a shopping trip Browsing the delightful displays Searching for that special something to return home with A long awaited family reunion Unconditional love across the border Every moment together treasured Happy fullfilling memories that will last forever Abundance of families in dispair Taking inhumane risks to get across the border Desperate to make it alive to a safer place of uncertainty Mourning those who dont Each person Opportunities lie at the heart of every border
• Tauren: Youth is wasted on the young, Or so the elderly claim, But is it, is it really? I say not. Youth is where it belongs, The elderly would only hoard it, Terrified of spending it, Going to their graves still clutching it. Youth is where it belongs, It was meant to be used, Misused, misspent, abused even, By those who cannot understand it`s worth. Let the young alone, Let them be reckless, feckless, Let them be wastrels, Let them live.
• Tauren: The middle of nowhere That fictitious piece of real estate Popularised as fen and glen, as peak or trough populated by those in search of losing themselves Where the lonesome cry of the Gulls,matches the weary song in their hearts Unplugged from the digital drudgery Desperate to slip the electronic shackles that bind them They stride forth in ones and twos In hopes of reclaiming a life they`ve never known Unaware that the middle of nowhere exists in but one place, their hearts For they may never discover the truth in the saying: loneliness is a crowded room That everywhere is somewhere if you have someone to love Or someone who loves you But for those others, the unloving, the unloved Everywhere is the Middle of Nowhere