How did you end up in a small town in Mexico with just one suitcase? Uncle Gordon had warned against it. Your own father had flat out forbidden it. But the Lancaster women had always known best. Adjusting your grip on the suitcase handle, you picked up your skirts with the other and leapt down... Continue Reading →
You're kayaking in the bay with your mother when a wave hits, dumping you both into the water. You immediately surface, frantically searching from side to side. Your inner monologue starts. You knew this was a bad idea. It was too rough. She was too inexperienced. If something has happened to her you'll never forgive... Continue Reading →
The mitten hung from the tree branch for more than 30 years. The posters faded. The teddies got waterlogged, then mouldy, then slowly rotted away. The bunches of flowers dried up first. Each year, on the anniversary, a few people would add new tributes but none of them lasted as long as that mitten. I... Continue Reading →
She started working as an artist's model at the age of 90. It gave her such a kick. For years she had felt invisible and now, each Monday night for two hours at least, she was the centre of attention. 14 pairs of eyeballs writing stories about her folds and wrinkles in their art. Even... Continue Reading →
Fathers aren't supposed to turn cartwheels. "Is that your Dad...? What's he doing...!?" You don't even have to turn your head. You know what he must be doing, again, to prompt that tone. Ever since he went away for the weekend to 'find himself' he's been acting strangely. Crawling around, sniffing at trees, drinking out... Continue Reading →
The shirt smelled just like him. It was six months since he passed. Her Norman. The kids had been pressuring her to sort his drawers, to spread her clothes into his side of the wardrobe. I am sure they weren't tying to be insensitive. But that's how it felt. A lifetime wrapped up and removed... Continue Reading →
The president has a secret phobia. It's having his photo taken. You can imagine, as his press secretary, I absolutely love that. It is never awkward hustling him away from ribbon cutting - tree planting - baby kissing - as soon as people reach for their cameras... I blame it on his schedule, on the... Continue Reading →
Beetles covered every surface. The forest floor seemed to move, sensuously. The beetles undulating. The filtered light reflecting dully from their greeny black backs. The strange clicky-tappy noise as their legs scrabbled over the shells of their peers formed a solid sound cloud. There was order, of a kind, as the strong climbed over the... Continue Reading →
It was the hottest day in 87 years; there was only one way to find relief. I put the wheelbarrow in the shade. I put the baby in the wheelbarrow to keep my hands free and started the hose running. As soon as the barrow was full and Sammy was splashing up a storm I... Continue Reading →
You wake up with a banana slug tattooed on your face. You walk outside and notice that everyone else has the same tattoo. What is going on? How can everyone have the same tattoo when you didn't even know what a banana slug was until you googled it five minutes ago? Unlikely to have been... Continue Reading →
Nobody can ever tell what race I am. This is both a gift and a problem. I've had Brazilian, Maori and just about everywhere in between, which if you think about it, is just about everywhere! 'I know' a guy said once snapping his fingers, 'you're French Algerian'. I mean, wow, that would be very... Continue Reading →
My parents took me to my first antiwar demonstration when I was three years old. The sign I insisted on creating was a nonsensical series of rashly painted strokes that I was inordinately proud of. It was a poor mimicry of my parents much more heart felt slogans. This wasn't abstract for them, not an... Continue Reading →
A 45-year-old woman brings home a 21-year-old street musician. Their attraction isn't physical. It's clearly musical. For three hours they play solidly. Blues into jazz, jazz into scat. From scat it's just a short but unorthodox hop to Bach. Sometimes she leads and is the teacher. Sometimes it's him. In three hours the words uttered... Continue Reading →
Your life changes when you're unable to speak above a whisper. Libraries and movie theatres = good. Crowded trams and getting the attention of frazzled shop assistants = bad. It has stalled my promotions at work. Nothing is more sinister and unable to galvanise the support of shareholders than a Head of Finance who whispers... Continue Reading →
Words 