Sight, sound, smell, taste, touch. That’s the order, right? It is for me, anyway, making “smell” the third sense. And not just a lowly third sense either, because something about this sense is transcendent – it has the power to link up with your sixth sense.
And if, like the lady above, you find something rotten in the air, chances are it’s indicative of an existential decay of some sort. Or, in some cases, it could just be a fart. Continue reading
One lonely robot. (c) Married to an Alcoholic
It’s 5am. In the past three hours, I’ve reached over three times trying to find her little toes. Because by this time, she’s padded over the landing and crept into my bed because she’s scared.
And each time I reach over, I remember she’s not here. Continue reading
Back. After months of anxious searching, raised hopes and panicked losses, I’m back. How many months has it been? Living under a superstitious spell that buttoned my lips and stilled my fingers? Continue reading
Break, break, break. Time accelerates then brakes against the shore of my leave. An office dalliance rises and winks away into nothing, like a fish leaping then plunging back into the ocean. Continue reading
So, that great wave has broken against the rocks and sprawled its way across the sand. The wild thing in me, washed away. Way back along the shore, there’s me, watching these crazy thoughts splinter in the sunshine. Continue reading
This is a short one, because my eyeballs have assumed the role of a slot machine, periodically rolling back into my head expecting to toss out a matching pair of cherries. I can’t seem to stay awake past 9.30 most nights. So, it being close to midnight means that I’m on the cusp of delirium. Continue reading
With Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s passing late last night, a memory. I open an old copy of One hundred years of solitude and find something unexpected. A note written in my handwriting, addressed to Ben. I gave him this book a few months after we got together. At the time, I didn’t realise how prescient an act that was. Continue reading