These aren't the stories your mother told you.

No, these are the other stories.

The Last Days of My Dad, written by Luke Condor, narrated by Joanna Coulton.

Don't worry, son. Everything's going to be okay. Craig's father failed to realize that every time he

spoke he hurt his son. Each word disturbed the wound, brought out fresh blood and sometimes

required a fresh visit to the nurse for new stitches.

Craig winced as he placed a damp slice of kitchen roll over the wound

and looked up at the light bulb, dangling from the white rope of wire poking through the ceiling.

It was dark outside, he was supposed to be asleep, early start in the morning, and he needed the rest.

He leaned his back against the kitchen worktop and wished that his dad would just leave him be, would just let him go.

Son?

His dad said, confused.

His voice now muffled from the damp kitchen roll.

Craig ignored him.

His dad was a pain when he was alive and now, even after death, his dad couldn't stop hurting him. It was only a month ago when the papers were all signed and ready to go. All they needed

to do was clear the house, go through and remove

his dad's stuff so they could get the place cleaned up, and maybe redecorate a few bits here and there.

Nothing fancy. Fresh coat of paint, touch up some of the yellowed white, and then get the place sold,

get the whole mess out of his life for good.

I've never known a man to accumulate so much shit, his brother Devon said, as he grabbed a handful of mills and boon novels from the bookshelf and dropped them into a giant box that was destined for the tip.

Each time he disturbed the shelf, a puff of dust blew upwards hazing the air.

He sneezed and looked to Craig as if to say,

...