rask_balavoine
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My stories
Overnight bus to Delhi.
I got on a bus. Light was already draining from the late, wet afternoon sky. The seats were wooden with no padding and I just knew that the moving...
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- 212 reads
Between this and that.
My corner of Ireland lies smart with frost this morning, all ready for either war or a picnic. The brash, noisy sun calls forest and fields to...
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- 191 reads
Goa, 1976 with buffaloes.
The guest house was cool and quiet. From under its thatched roof and high ceilings I stepped into a stale morning. It was like walking into a warm,...
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- 224 reads
Dusk and wine.
Late this afternoon, as dusk was starting to gather, I took myself out into the back garden with a bottle of red Lebanese wine. A mild winter...
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- 247 reads
Dread December.
I can sense dread December about to roll in, and you can too I suspect. In rolling in it will obnubilate the soft November memories that I’m...
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- 136 reads