Johnson Michael

Dandelion Jam A gentle and snowy winter has passed, and with spring’s arrival in our small English town, Taissa finds herself yearning for green leaves and colourful blooms. From her third-floor window, she gazes out at the awakening city where lorries rumble, the market buzzes, and people shed their winter wear for brighter coats. Birds sing before alarms; spring brings new energy, and soon, summer will be even better. Taissa, long settled in her five-storey block, now lives with her granddaughter, Vera, a lively Year Four pupil whose parents—both doctors—left for a work contract in Africa, entrusting their daughter to her grandmother. “Gran, we’re giving you Vera to look after, just for a while,” her daughter had said. “She’ll be happier with you than traipsing across the world.” Taissa, now retired, was delighted for the companionship. Each day is filled with routine: shopping, chatting with her neighbours on the chilly bench outside—the ever-watchful Mrs Simmons from downstairs, always mysterious about her age, and the cheerful, well-read Mrs Valentine. Together, they swap news, share stories, and complain about health, their bench a hub of local gossip. Life continues: Taissa spoils Vera with treats for her good grades, welcomes her home from school, listens to her tales, and beams with pride at Vera’s dedication to dance lessons. One bright afternoon, as Taissa awaits Vera’s return, she’s joined by Mr Edward, a widower from next door, who talks about the daffodils and coltsfoot carpeting the lawns like tiny suns. Spring’s beauty is in full bloom, and with Vera’s lively mischief, their days are warm and busy. Edward and Taissa begin to meet regularly—reading the papers, walking in the park, discussing recipes, and sharing snippets of their lives. Edward’s own story is bittersweet: he raised his daughter, Anne, alone after losing his wife, and despite his efforts, Anne’s grown distant, raising a son on her own in another city. Unexpectedly, Anne arrives with austere intentions: she insists her father sell his beloved flat and move in with her for “company’s sake”. Edward resists, unwilling to leave his home and his quiet, independent life. Anne, noting his friendship with Taissa, confronts Taissa with suspicion, accusing her of ulterior motives regarding Edward’s property. The harsh words sting, but Anne soon leaves in anger, severing ties with her father. Taissa, embarrassed by the scene, grows distant from Edward—until one day, he waits for her outside, dandelions in hand, apologising for his daughter’s behaviour. He gifts her a wreath of dandelions and offers a jar of his homemade dandelion jam, extolling its health benefits and inviting her to try it in a salad. Together, they share tea with dandelion jam and laughter, and in the quiet evening, stroll to the park with a fresh issue of their favourite magazine. Sitting beneath their old lime tree, their conversation flows, and all worries melt away. For Taissa and Edward, the springtime brings sweet new beginnings—and the simple joys of dandelion jam. Thank you for reading, subscribing, and supporting my stories. Wishing you happiness in life!

Dandelion Jam The snow finally melted away; this year, the frost hadnt been harshjust a gentle, snowy winter. Yet, as all winters do, it had overstayed...

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Why Does It Matter Who Looked After Gran? By Law, That Flat Should Be Mine! — My Mum Argues With Me Over My Grandmother’s Home My Own Mother is Threatening to Sue Me — All Because My Gran’s Flat Went Not to Her, or Even to Me, But to My Daughter. Mum Claims It’s Unfair, Insists the Flat Should Be Hers. But Gran Made a Different Choice. Why? Perhaps Because My Husband and I Lived With Her and Cared for Her Those Last Five Years. You Could Easily Call My Mum Selfish — Her Needs Were Always Far More Important Than Anyone Else’s. Mum’s Been Married Three Times, But Only Had Two Daughters: My Younger Sister and Me. We Get On Brilliantly, But Neither of Us Has a Great Relationship With Mum. I Don’t Even Remember My Dad — He Split From Mum When I Was Two. Up Until I Was Six, I Lived With Mum at Gran’s. For Some Reason, I Thought Gran Was Awful — Probably Because Mum Was Always Crying. Only When I Grew Up Did I Understand: Gran Was Good, She Just Wanted to Help Her Daughter Make a Better Life. Later, Mum Married Again and We All Moved In With My Stepfather. That’s When My Sister Was Born. But After Seven Years, Mum Got Divorced Again. This Time, We Didn’t Go Back to Gran’s. Stepfather Went Off to Work and Let Us Stay in His Flat for a Bit. Three Years Later, Mum Married Husband Number Three and We Moved In With Him. He Wasn’t Pleased Mum Had Children, Though He Never Hurt Us — He Just Ignored Us. So Did Mum. She Was Obsessed With Her New Husband, Always Jealous, Always Causing Rows and Breaking Crockery. Once a Month Mum Would Start Packing, But Stepfather Always Talked Her Round. My Sister and I Got Used to It and Stopped Noticing. I Ended Up Looking After My Sister — Mum Didn’t Have the Time. Thank Goodness for Our Grandmothers, Who Helped Us So Much. Eventually, I Left for University, and My Sister Moved In With Gran. Our Dad Always Supported Her; Mum Would Call Us Only at Christmas. I Accepted Mum For Who She Was and Stopped Expecting Her to Care, But My Sister Never Did. She Was Always Hurt, Especially When Mum Skipped Her School Leavers’ Party. We Grew Up. My Sister Got Married and Moved Away. I Was Living With My Long-Term Boyfriend; We Visited Gran Often and Stayed Close, Though I Tried Not to Be a Nuisance. When Gran Fell Ill and Went Into Hospital, I Visited Every Day: Shopping, Cooking, Cleaning, Chatting, Making Sure She Took Her Medicine. Sometimes My Boyfriend Helped Out Too. After Six Months, Gran Suggested We Move In to Save for Our Own Place, So We Did. Six Months Later, I Was Pregnant. We Got Married, Had a Simple Family Do — Mum Didn’t Come, Not Even a Phone Call. When My Daughter Was Two Months Old, Gran Broke Her Leg. Caring for Both Was Hard and I Desperately Needed Mum’s Help, But She Refused, Saying She Wasn’t Well and Would Come Later. She Never Did. Six Months On, Gran Had a Stroke and Was Bedridden. If Not for My Husband, I Don’t Know How I’d Have Coped. Gran Slowly Improved, She Even Got to See Her Great-Granddaughter Take Her First Steps, and Lived Another Two-and-a-Half Years. She Passed Away Peacefully in Her Sleep. My Husband and I Were Devastated By Her Loss. Mum Only Came for the Funeral. A Month Later, She Tried to Evict Me So She Could Have the Flat. Mum Hadn’t Realised Gran Had Left It to My Daughter Right After She Was Born. Naturally Mum Was Furious, Demanding I Give Up the Flat or She’d Sue Me. “Look How Deceitful You Are! You Duped the Old Woman, Took Her Flat, And Now You Live In It Yourself! You Won’t Get Away With This! It Doesn’t Matter Who Looked After Gran — That Flat Should Be Mine!” But Mum Won’t Get That Flat, I Know That for Certain. I’ve Spoken to a Solicitor and a Notary. We’ll Stay in the Home Gran Gave Us, and If Our Second Child Is a Girl, She’ll Be Named After Gran.

What matter is it who cared for Grandmother? By rights, the house ought to be mine! My mothers voice, strident and bitter, still echoes in my...

Блиск

Stories By Johnson Michael

She Didn’t Want To – But She Did: How Vasilisa’s Desperate Gamble Led to Love and Redemption in a Quiet English Village

The Stillness of New Year’s Eve

My Husband Invited His Ex-Wife Over for the Sake of the Children—So I Checked Into a Hotel to Celebrate on My Own

Yesterday — Or How a Dinner Party for the “Gourmet Brother-in-Law” Became a Lesson in Family, Boundaries, and the True Cost of Hospitality in a Classic English Home

Relatives Demanded My Bedroom for the Holidays, Left Empty-Handed When I Refused to Give Up My Sanctuary

Mother-in-law Helped Herself to My Gourmet Foods from the Fridge—Stuffing Them All into Her Bag Before Saying Goodbye

My Husband Compared Me to His Friend’s Wife at the Dinner Table—And Ended Up with a Bowl of Salad in His Lap

My Husband Compared Me to His Friend’s Wife at the Dinner Table—And Ended Up with a Bowl of Salad in His Lap

Title

Trece años y una foto borrosa

Не го написах, за да ме харесат

Миражът в снега

A metade que ficou na lata

Грамотата от 1978-ма

She Called the Cops on Me Over Grandpa’s Drill

O menino da Hilux preta

Заглавие: Барманът видя всичко

Le double de mon fils

A mala estava no corredor quando eu vi a mulher sair correndo

Блиск

Johnson Michael

Stories By Johnson Michael

She Didn’t Want To – But She Did: How Vasilisa’s Desperate Gamble Led to Love and Redemption in a Quiet English Village

The Stillness of New Year’s Eve

My Husband Invited His Ex-Wife Over for the Sake of the Children—So I Checked Into a Hotel to Celebrate on My Own

Yesterday — Or How a Dinner Party for the “Gourmet Brother-in-Law” Became a Lesson in Family, Boundaries, and the True Cost of Hospitality in a Classic English Home

Relatives Demanded My Bedroom for the Holidays, Left Empty-Handed When I Refused to Give Up My Sanctuary

Mother-in-law Helped Herself to My Gourmet Foods from the Fridge—Stuffing Them All into Her Bag Before Saying Goodbye

My Husband Compared Me to His Friend’s Wife at the Dinner Table—And Ended Up with a Bowl of Salad in His Lap

My Husband Compared Me to His Friend’s Wife at the Dinner Table—And Ended Up with a Bowl of Salad in His Lap

Title

**Trece años y una foto borrosa**

Не го написах, за да ме харесат

Миражът в снега

A metade que ficou na lata

Грамотата от 1978-ма

She Called the Cops on Me Over Grandpa’s Drill

O menino da Hilux preta

Заглавие: Барманът видя всичко

Le double de mon fils

A mala estava no corredor quando eu vi a mulher sair correndo

Trece años y una foto borrosa