December 2010
17 posts
The Cleanup
My task this week is a tough one. I have to go through my mum’s photos, letters, music and belongings and decide what we want to keep and what will be retired from our lives. Four hours in and already I know more about her life than I did when she was alive. It’s going to be a tough week.
Barfly
The pencil and the paper, sitting beside an ice-filled cocktail on a dark-wood table. The tealight is a child’s whim in a frosted glass cell. My suit’s wrinkled from walking and stalking fortune on through a hot city. Her breath is all over me, the wet panting of a town birthing a troublesome child.
There’s a bag of things I paid not to need at my foot, and a lit-up iPhone...
