This is the second part of a 2-part post. To make sense of the story, please read Close Encounters: Part 1 first.
Thank you kindly.
The cargo plane’s propellers whirl: filling the hot air with a rhythmic throbbing and sending her hair streaming over her shoulder.
They stand before the aircraft’s open door: its shadowed interior a welcoming invitation to escape. But she has to resist. She cannot run from this. Cannot run from him.
Continue reading Close Encounters: Part 1
Photo courtesy of Michelle Weber.
Those hands are my downfall. Those large hands scored with multiple burns and cuts; with their clever, nimble fingers and constant redness from being frequently washed in too-hot water.
God, I could watch those hands for hours as they go about their business. Have watched them over these past three years; but these last few months, they’ve been driving me crazy. I lose time watching those hands.
Continue reading Culinary Delights
What the? She jerks awake – head jumping from the pillow and a moan of reluctance following the arc of movement.
The white-blue dazzle of LED light jabs fingers in the side of her face and her skin cringes away in irritation at the rude awakening. OK … OK … Forgot to turn the phone off. It’s OK.
Continue reading 2AM Photo
the time that you see this, I will no longer exist.
There will be an entity walking around who looks like me and sounds like me, but that being will be a figment of society’s imagination. The ‘me’ who thinks and feels and processes my experience as an individual will have been wiped clean and reconstructed with a personality and behaviour patterns that more readily suits the status quo.
I am not sorry for this. Because what I have done to warrant such a correction has been worth the effort and the terror.
Continue reading First Contact
The tram clutters its way clumsily up the slow incline; its bell clanking noisily to notify those nearby of its presence. She laughs at its wheezy passing as she imagines that she and her husband sound something similar as they slowly make their way up the low, broad steps.
She turns to study the man walking beside her. The aqua and white stripes of his t-shirt stretch to accommodate the generous belly that makes him ideal for the role of Santa that he plays for the local children at the end of every year. His profile is one she has studied for 46 years and slept beside for 43.
Continue reading A Picture-Perfect Moment