Sunday, January 26, 2020


Salt Water

A man sat by the shore at the beach.
Two little boats, sailing along the coast..., he muttered.
That sounds like the beginning of a story, someone in the group said, laughing. And continued walking.
Two little boats, sailing along the little coast, sailing along the rocky coast, sailing along... And he stopped, his eyes on the horizon.
The group had disappeared from his sight.
Two little boats, sailing along the sharky coast... He stopped again. Sharky... Shark. He shook his head and slid backwards, taking his feet out of the water.
One little boat, sailing along the lonely coast.

Sunday, January 19, 2020


Tierra de Fuego

The photo was on the table, silent. Undeniable proof.
Nah, it's fake, someone said.
And yet, it was there, a loud accusation to all those denying it.
No one touched the photo, but everyone looked at it.
They knew it had been taken there, in that sunny apartment, but where exactly?
It's clean. Nothing. No blood, no footprints, no fingerprints. Leave.
Nothing they could do. And they left.
Years later, breaking down a wall, there she was. There she was... 5 years old and definitely not a fake.
The photo got lost in a mysterious flood in the archive room.

Sunday, January 12, 2020


Whispering Wind

The frog. This frog! It's a pet. It's the pet, he said, stressing the word the.
No one believed him, of course. A frog for a pet? That didn't seem plausible.
Ah, but it's a magical frog, it crunches.
Crunches, they asked, rolling their eyes and smirking in disdain.
More eye-rolling ensued.
A paper was produced. Numbers were supplied. The frog was summoned.
To everyone's amazement, the frog provided the results and they were correct.
Meanwhile, a pair of eyes was eagerly checking the comings and goings of the frog.
The numbery crunching turned into a crunchy chewing.

Sunday, January 5, 2020

Mention the Seventh!

Collins Land

Did I already mention some of New Year's traditions? No? OK!
Lift a foot, stand on your head, eat 12 raisins, take just as many sips of champagne.
If anyone tells you to do the opposite, fight back. Lift a foot, stand on your head, eat the raisins and drink the champagne.
And if they tell you you're crazy, lift your foot and kick them where it hurts most, skip the headstand, and spit the seventh raisin at them. Crazy is as crazy does.
Oh, and drink the champagne. There's no point in wasting a perfectly good champagne, is there?