Tag Archives: summer


The cicadas are praising God incessantly; while my last frayed nerve curls with the rising humidity, they sing, and play their tiny violins, an orchestra of prayer. I would join them, but my soul is having a bad hair day, refuses … Continue reading

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Dislocated daydreams: salt spray from a city street; unkept promises.

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Religious rituals and summer Sunday attendance

Two days after my mother died, at half past five in the morning, I heard a strange noise outside my bedroom window, the window of the spare bedroom in my parent’s house. It was a rasping, grinding, rolling, grunting, sighing … Continue reading

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Signs of summer

Beauty, decadent and dangerous; a cheap hit of colour running riot through the regimented rows with their cloth of gold; a flamboyant tease, streetwise with a delicate touch, the joy and the ruin of many.

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