The Morning Ritual

Dimitri likes to brew his own tea every morning. He politely declines any offer from anyone else to prepare his tea, citing a preference for a distinct taste that he is accustomed to, one which he alone can brew. He fixes it- water on the boil, a spoonful sugar, a spoonful of tea leaves, a…

Of Books & Memoirs

At St. Paul’s historic books library, rows and rows of books, yellowed with age, wait patiently. Brushing aside a spider web woven loosely around, she pulls out a tattered hardbound book with faded gold lettering. As she opens the book and flips through the pages, a scent drifts through- warm and musty, like the inside…

The Music

At the crack of dawn Mrs Holloway begins her day, pottering about the kitchen, brewing fresh tea for her husband of five decades.  This morning, the first sip of tea has a special zing—special, not so much because she has added to it a dash of her homegrown window-sill ginger, but more because it is…

Change in Aperture

Photo “Isabel Nao   She joins him on Blake’s Peak in the late afternoon, just as the sun begins its descent. Her face isn’t remarkable in the conventional sense; her nose, eyes mouth, seem like unrelated pieces in a jigsaw puzzle wrongly placed near each other. But there is something else about her, he can’t…

New Meanings

It is Sunday afternoon. They are spring cleaning the closet, sorting through clothes, getting rid of clutter. The mild summer breeze from the window is a welcome relief from the relentless blaze of brilliant amber in the sky. The breeze ruffles few long, elegant strands of hair hanging loose over her face. Floaters, he would…