My Blog
Childhood Snapshots
Shyly the girl jumps into the pool. She’s teaching me how to swim, but I am learning how to leave. This falls on the wrong side of my pleasure...
a drink called loneliness
Money is not everything. They tell you that when you’re little and you believe it. Then you grow a little older and you don’t believe it. They’re right. Money is not everything. But what they don’t tell you is that everything is money.
the dead are born every day
Life, for the dead, is within reach of the marble headstones, the comfort in sleeping in friendly proximity to the living.
It’s Us, not Them
It was ten to 11 PM when the lights went out. Close your eyes. Yes, that kind of darkness. Like that Kenya Power rogue monkey had cut off...
Mine was an ordinary dad, but his influence was great
What do we owe our parents? Do we owe them more than what they gave us? If we’ve given them a thousand chances to be better for us, do we give them one more?
How To Bury a Comrade
The villagers are made puny by the backdrop of stoicism in the face of the comrades, which loom like colossi and then by the event itself. It’s a kamikaze mission. A comrade’s death is a cenotaph, buried deep in the unmarked graves of our hearts.
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