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I could feel the excitement bustling through the village long before the emissary arrived. Much as the excitement that must surge through a hive when...

Vanco found some folders in the drawer of the table and shuffled through the pages tearing them down and stuffing them in his jacket pockets. He wore...

It seems I dream mostly of people, all kinds of people I knew. Does make sense I have had no contact I know how it feels for years and years just my...

“Jaco!” called the counter girl as he appeared at the narrow entrance by the nook of the building standing on Szentháromság tér facing the Holy...

Lore turned the corner, it looked as though they hadn’t even bothered. The entire building’s orbital corridor was seemingly designed to look as...

Spencer was staring intently out of the kitchen window, moving his head to focus on the treetops and then back down to the lawn. ‘Three blackbirds,’...

Image: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 Generic license. Author: VollwertBIT

Winter’s retreating …

Written at the rate of 100 words per day, this is the second part of my account of a journey from the settee to the corner of our kitchen where the kettle is. At this point the kettle is switched on. I only wish, during that icy month, I could have said the same about myself.