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#FiveSentenceFiction: Conflict
We know how it all starts: lies, distrust, fear… We also know how it finishes, the ruins, the lost lives, the seeds of more to come: 1871, 1918, 1945, and the tall stories the alleged victors tell....
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Dawn
The small bird was close to our window: her voice rose high and clear in the light mist shrouding the garden. She was celebrating life and the dawn of a new day, she was saying hope is alive, and look...
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In a deep well, reflections on reading Haruki Murakami’s Wind-up Bird Chronicle
It is a rare writer who can combine the spectra of recent history in its full horror, the dreams of love, and the mysteries of the soul. So is Monsieur Murakami. The Wind-up Bird Chronicle was...
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#DailyPrompt: Twenty-Five Seven
The rain has not stopped, and as you walk through the room, your long hair falling on those beloved shoulders, I think of the day you came back. That day, as today, the reflection of the grey clouds,...
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#DailyPrompt: UnsungHeroes
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Unsung Heroes.” Your face haunts my sleepless nights, so far away and yet so familiar, I see the immense plain, covered with snow, and the litter of...
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#DailyPrompt: Embrace the Ick #Auschwitz70 #Evil
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Embrace the Ick.” “You know who I mean, those desk generals, those corrupt politicians, those oligarchs and their media lackeys – they who don’t...
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#VisDare 105: Pause
City lights… I looked around, taking in the anonymous passersby, the broken asphalt, the absurd glitter of a dying world. The line was dead, already: you had gone, far, further than where I could ever...
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Pale criminals, a reading of Berlin Noir by Philip Kerr
Bernhardt Günther is a tough guy, a survivor of the trenches of the Great War, a cop, a man who loves women, and his city, Faust’s metropolis, Berlin in the 30s. In March Violets – evoking the cynical...
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Low Light #HolocaustMemorialDay
The Atlantic rain hammers the windows, in the grey skies the birds are still, hesitant. Is it the impossible memory, the fear to forget, to ignore, someday to face the nightmare, in our lives? Those...
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The City knows #WritersWednesday
She never forgets: the humble swamps of the beginnings, the far away sounds of war, the medieval cruelties, the triumphs, the parades, the Enemy at the gates… Then there was the long war – thirty...
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