(Read Part 1 here)
(Read Part 2 here)
You give her a big, slightly clumsy hug, perhaps holding on a moment too long, and then let go just as quickly. "The car is parked out back, if that's okay," you manage. She nods, a small, knowing
(Read Part 1 here)
Friday rolls around. It's only been two days of talking with this girl. All you really know about her is that she likes art and could, apparently, devour hamburgers every single day. Sounds like your type of girl, you think, but a fog of
Try to imagine this for me.
It's Wednesday. You wake up groggily, no matter how much you've actually slept – nine, ten, eleven hours, it makes no difference. You find yourself wondering if this is just what being over thirty feels like, this constant, low hum of
It’s a mentally wild ride I inhabit, this constant back-and-forth. I often feel like a Westerner through and through – I talk, think, and dream fluently in English. Yet, my internal wiring often defaults to an Eastern way of processing things. It’s almost like a split-personality syndrome, perhaps designed
Before marriage, I was a free-floating amoeba, really, swimming around in search of the next ambition to test out. I was intent on forging a visual legacy, so that when I eventually died some tragically boring death, I would leave something behind – a mark, a stain, some proof of my
Cricket, croooaaak, cricket... cricket. CROAAAK.
The sounds of mid-April spring sprang sporadically across the Langley grove. Colours of deep-set purple, woven with hints of pink and blue, spread across the sky as dusk lazily began its nightly ritual. Out in the backyard of our temporary escape, I lit a fire
