Category Prose

Fumes that Billow

I was about to pack up for the day when the boss walked into our department. It was half past five, so the office was nearly empty. “Ah, both of you,” he said, gesturing to Paul and me. “Glad you’re still here.” I pulled a chair towards him, and Paul trotted over, straightening his after-hours […]

Storm

An old lady with a brown shopping-trolley is crossing at the lights. She turns and waddles towards the tram-stop where I am standing. Most commuters have already left, and the traffic has begun to thin. Warnings of high storms and damaging winds forecasted for the late afternoon took over the airwaves and every messaging medium […]

(Real) Estate

I sometimes go off to my country home, where the pace is slow and every moment deep. There, the world becomes small and vivid, in which one follows birds in their rustle or hears crickets list their griefs. Without looking, you could feel the sun slant upon your toes, or the air hold your face. […]

Vignettes

i. So, you sit watching a silent film of your unborn past, as you watch the unfolding drama by an anonymous writer. And there you are, walking down a path in the old country, weaving through thickets into the woods, where you step inside a shrine built two thousand years ago, not knowing what it […]