David just stood there, hands hanging limb on either side of his windy frame. He stared and said nothing completely no emotion on his face. People walked past him with the occasional shove from the angry or overzealous ‘hand’ talkers. He did nothing he just stood there, back hunched over, head hung, he said nothing.
Becky sat on her bed and stared at the bare walls of her room. It was a bit eerie today, it felt like the walls were showing her what she was inside, plain, bare and extremely empty. She shifted her weight to yank the duvet cover from underneath her, the old steel frame creaked echoing
Otin, cupped his hand and looked at his nails and shrugged. He lifted his pinky and shoved it up his nostrils in a violent act. His finger wiggled in his crinkled nostril, his eyes darting from side to side. It looked as if he was looking for something lodged up in his brain he was
“Konzooo! Konzooo!!” The persistent jocular call of her husband was haunting Consolata. She was playing it over and over in her head, she hadn’t heard him call her that in almost a month. His absence became more apparent when she didn’t see him a week ago as scheduled. Every 3 weeks Musau would spend the
Dad would have turned 79 years on Sunday. I was trying to imagine what he would have been like now and how our relationship would have grown. I didn’t normally think about it that much, but I know, it sounds like a broken record now, but Mum’s absence just opened up more wounds I thought
Plumes of smoke rendered the city blind, people choked as dust showered on suits completely redefining shape and colour. Neatly coiffed hair rendered dishevelled and grey. Debris showered down like confetti, people coughing violently with dust kicked from pale faces with each exertion. Muffled screams and groans could be heard from under shattered columns and