I have a strikingly incorrigible memory of cold tofu, as if I’ve had it before, snugged in a cramp Japanese-style bar with dated stools and lacquered dark-wood tables. Steam perforates … Continue reading Reading Tofu
I’ve never been this alone. Hours would pass without an inkling of a sound, but my world crumbles irrevocably in noise. It’s as if my thoughts precede me, and watching … Continue reading Noise.
After the rain, trees waver to the wind, and they rustle when a bird seeks shelter, waving to an onlooker from a balcony. Inching in all directions, they fight and encroach, and on good days, are the companions we need.
Their green and brown tendrils yearn to be embraced, so they shed their leaves, hoping we’d pick them up, feel its veins and keep them between our hands (or between a favourite book), before letting them go again.
I want ice cream. I’m only halfway through dinner but I know what my body wants and I want ice cream. I think about the sweet, gooey goodness melting and sliding … Continue reading Ice Cream
We took a 5 hour drive through the south of Bohemia into Austria, passing the invisible border marked by hills and plains, where everything changes without warning.
In a little repository lodged at the back of my mind are some isolated memories I have of my father. They wane in detail, sculpted in a way that I … Continue reading Further.
The air is a little different at six in the morning, as if they too, had some time for rest and rejuvenation, enveloping early risers with a sheen of lightness … Continue reading The Blue Hour