Tag Archives: Eszter Molnar

ESZTER MOLNAR: Walkies

Submissions, Touching, ,

The dog’s pulling me to the left. But your window overlooks the path to my right.

It’s Tuesday so I know you’ll be at home, sitting at your desk, surrounded by books and photographs of your family.

Just a quick glance. For old times’ sake.

“Come on Cooper, this way.”

Eszter Molnar is a former teacher who lives by the windswept British seaside. She has been published in one of the UK’s biggest subscription magazines for children. By day, she cleans up after preschoolers. By night, she writes children’s books.

ESZTER MOLNAR: Cold Turkey in November

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

It hasn’t stopped raining for four long days.

Carl’s eyes are red-rimmed, his face a bloated mess.

“I can’t do this much longer,” he cries.

“You’re doing great,” I assure him but right now—and I’m not ashamed to admit this—I hate him. We’ve been here before. Seven times.

Eszter Molnar is a former teacher who lives by the windswept British seaside with her partner and two children. She has been published in one of the UK’s biggest subscription magazines for children. By day she cleans up after preschoolers. By night she writes picture books and middle grade fiction.

ESZTER MOLNAR: Again

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

I hurried to the restaurant, my heart full of hope.

Will she smile at me today? I wondered. Ask me how my day was? Comment on my haircut?

She was sitting in the corner, reading. She didn’t look at me.

“You’re late,” she said as she turned a page. “Again.”

Eszter Molnar is a former teacher who lives by the windswept British seaside with her partner and two children. She has been published in one of the UK’s biggest subscription magazines for children. By day, she cleans up after preschoolers, by night she writes picture books and Middle Grade fiction.

ESZTER MOLNAR: Priorities

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

I could have stolen the sandwiches but I needed the shoes more. The beach was busy but nobody noticed me. They rarely do during the day.

The boys come for me after the pubs have closed. Restless, bored, vicious.

But tonight I won’t be kicked or punched. Tonight I run.

Eszter Molnar is a former teacher who lives by the windswept British seaside. She has been published in one of the UK’s biggest subscription magazines for children. By day, she cleans up after preschoolers, by night she writes flash fiction, picture books and Middle Grade fiction.

ESZTER MOLNAR: Sunday Morning Heartbreak

Artistic, Submissions, ,

“Why would you do this to me?” the woman cries.

The café falls silent but she doesn’t seem to notice.

The man slowly removes her hand from his shoulder. He smirks as he gets up.

I can’t stop staring as she begins to sob, and I hate myself for it.

Eszter Molnar is a former teacher who lives by the windswept British seaside. She has been published in one of the UK’s biggest subscription magazines for children. By day, she cleans up after preschoolers, by night she writes flash fiction, picture books and Middle Grade fiction.

ESZTER MOLNAR: I Thought This Day Would Never Come

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

She looks just as good as she did back in school. Slick. Smart.

I glance at my worn trainers as the bus lurches forward. She hasn’t seen me.

I can still hear her vicious words, feel her pulling my hair.

I tap on her shoulder. She turns around.

“Remember me?”

Eszter Molnar is a former teacher who lives by the windswept British seaside with her partner and two children. She has been published in one of the UK’s biggest subscription magazines for children. By day she cleans up after preschoolers; by night she writes picture books and Middle Grade fiction.