Excerpt: My hand has forgotten how to find yours. I wait for you to come in knowing that my eyes will not seek yours, that my gaze will drift past and I’ll need you to pull me back. What will I say? David, I’m home? Will you answer; have you been away?
What is Your Story? A version of this story is published as “The Bag” in Oor Ain Voice, by Write Enuff, 2016. Available from epubli at this link: Oor Ain Voice, or from iTunes, or Amazon This sculpture chilled me. The man or boy seems to have… Read More
Extract: “What would You know?” It was the wrong response. The cab lurched forward. The driver barked something unintelligible at her, his eyes pierced hers in the mirror. His soothing tone was gone and she felt the tension mounting as he slammed the wheel back and… Read More
Extract: It was the pile of banknotes lying unattended on the bar that drew my attention. We were in a café bar in the centre of Copenhagen in deep conversation about the exhibition at Kunsthal Charlottenborg. Leaving the gallery we had taken a brisk detour… Read More
Extract: Angela came to church but not often. It was Zimbabwe, 1985, and our songs and prayers rose with the optimism and reconciliation of those first years of independence. She tended to arrive late, just after the service started, and seemingly slipped out during the final prayer… Read More