A cameo suggested by The Writing Reader’s exhortation to write about the night before the morning after. Joanna tried to remember when it all went wrong. Was there a single moment, or was it the culmination of a series of small events, insignificant in themselves but building to create, first, suspicion, and, then, the certainty, that Carl was no longer the man she had married? It was supposed to have been a night to celebrate five years since their first date. A candle-lit dinner in a quiet corner of their favourite restaurant. Why did he have to invite Celia? His … Continue reading Third Person