Another day in the Land of No-one

El hombre malo

Cuenta la leyenda, que en una ladera del monte, en una casucha de piedra con un destartalado portalón azul con manchas marrones del oxido de las bisagras, vivía un hombre malo. Tan malo que nadie se acercaba a él por miedo, al que todos observaban desde la distancia, del que todos rumoreaban y al…

The Break

The man stood by the side of the window. He held his wrist behind his back —his grip was tight—, as if he was trying to hold himself back; and he felt the tension in his neck as he scanned the old buildings on the other side of the river. It was a beautiful day, not a soul on the street. One could…

Celebrando la vida

Cuando las vio en el mercado, se lo imaginó todo, ella en la terraza con su marido y su hijo: el vino blanco en las copas, el mar de fondo y el plato de almejas. Y no se lo pensó: —Medio kilo de almejas por favor —dijo decidida. Era algo un poco especial, pero la vida, se dijo, «es para…

No-one to Rescue

Getting on with it

I had just dropped of my daughter at school. I did not start the engine straight away and sat in the car until she vanished through the gate. I could drive home and get into my writing. Or, I could have a coffee at a coffee shop in town. It was an easy decision to make. But I turned on the engine…

My Move to Springwood

Insular. I love that word. It so well describes a kind that I detest. The dictionary says: "of or pertaining to an island or islands" also " characteristic or suggestive of inhabitants of an inland.", and "narrow or illiberal: insular prejudices". The island? Any place in the world, where they live…

My normality

I looked up at the ceiling and begged for help, it's creeping up again, my chest is tight. It's the Big Week of San Sebastian, but this only emphasizes how small I feel, in the crowds, fireworks for 7 nights in a row, for me: noise pollution, money that could have been spent on a better cause;…

El Corazón de mi Madre

El corazón de mi madre ¡Attención! ¿por qué? ¿cómo fue? el perder. Una postguerra, un golpe quizás ¿un adiós? ¿Odio? Lo miro, me insulta, con sus cañones, tiene un fuerte. ¿Miedo será? quiero su abrazo, pero su corazón agrio, no. Pero yo lo vi, ella tiene un corazón grande, ¡y bello! para otros.…

Vacaciones en Daguestan

The holiday and the job

It was the last day of Verity´s Queensland holiday. As she sat waiting for the bus to get to her flight back to Sydney, she decided –with some resentment– that it had been the most boring holiday ever. And a week was way too long to be stuck in a resort with little else to do other than sit around…

Tribal Feet

Published in Message Stick Canberra. The feeling of dry gum leaves and strips of curled bark crunching under my bare feet as I walked reminded me of home. The overwhelming midday heat and the deafening chirp of crickets had a numbing effect on me. I slowly wandered through the dry bush, waving the…