'Journalist,' I say, jutting my chin high. 'Can I get through please?' The crowd has swelled from the city building into the street. Minutes earlier, I had pushed my way to the front, only to bump into the chest of this mountain man. The badge weaved into his shirt reads KEEP SAFE SECURITY. He looks… Continue reading The interview
Pete's initial call rang out over two weeks ago. His party of decade was planned and ready. Invitations would follow via email in the next few days. It was a rainy, grey morning when Hillary opened her invitation. It had arrived in her inbox overnight. She stared at the words, trying not to feel superior… Continue reading To party or not to party?
Gawd, three weeks until the kidlets can go back to school and I can return to work. The wheels of productivity are loosening; the lights of inspiration flickering. I bob in a sea of disconnectedness with the world of work. But fear not, my fickle ways shall be overcome. I shall rise to the challenge… Continue reading Wheels falling off
Barry and I were in a small room, just off from triage. It was styled with a sofa, two arm chairs, a small occasional table with a lamp, and cheap art work. Also on the table were brochures: organ donation, funeral homes, cancer foundations, and SIDS. And a vase of plastic flowers. We knew instinctively… Continue reading Losing Mia
Marigold's tummy swirls and her body temperature oscillates between cold and hot, like she's about to spew. Her brow has perspiration beads collecting at her hairline. She's Googled her symptoms: she could have food poisoning to a bacterial infection to a smattering of more sinister options. She keeps her pain and her Dr Google sleuthing… Continue reading Marigold’s pain