The Heiress

Inside the funky, non-alcoholic bar, a hub-bub of voices: ‘Do smartphones wreck your love life?’ ‘Would you let your parents choose your date?’ A typical evening with the girls.

Courtney craved a Spicy Bloody Mary. Not that alcohol was the answer; or so they said on the happiness course (which would – wait for it – count towards her degree).

She had big dreams, Courtney did. Imagined herself an heiress, hob-nobbing with the elite. Didn’t just want to play a wife or girlfriend, wanted to be someone.
It would all come right in the end. When she’d find her biological mother.


by Geraldine McCarthy

From: Friday Flash Fiction


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