Hope you are well. I wrote this at the time of the hurricane but it transpires that I forgot to click send.
How is your family and home? I sincerely hope nothing bad happened. It has been such a long time. Please do write back.
Hi yaaaaaa! I am sitting the kids, so I brought them to play ping pong. If I hadn’t then they would be on their iPads the whole time. How are you doing?
Okay, I think. I just have too much going on inside my head. Continue reading
For every Pablo Picasso there are thousands of nearly-made-its and millions of not-quite-good-enough-to-do-it-full-time types. We are fortunate to belong in an aristocracy. For if we weren’t, then we wouldn’t be allowed the luxury of this discussion. And this very aristocracy allows us certain liberties and freedoms.
I had a meeting at 2 pm. It wasn’t about anything. Assemble people in a conference room, provide free food and they will find something to talk about. The meeting was dour to say the least- learned men and women gauging and criticizing their contemporaries. The stupidity of the educated cannot be underestimated. In the middle of it, I got bored. I fantasized about naked women- naked; some were in that room, some were not. I even imagined naked celebrities. Grace Kelly in a beach, Rooney Mara in a bathtub and Chanel Iman in the wilderness. I can’t help my imagination. After almost two hours, it was concluded that we needed to meet more often. Before leaving, I made myself one last cheese and cracker sandwich and chugged my drink. Continue reading
I’d been pretty discreet about the transaction, but not the incident. Everyone saw me eat it. You can ask them. I’d also been drinking. I made me feel bruised but cocky. Continue reading
Gregory Milne awoke with a slight headache and an extremely dry mouth. With half-opened eyes, he tried to remember where he was. Then, he reached for his mobile phone. The reorientation process slowly followed. It was a Tuesday afternoon. “Man, I hate the sun!”, exclaimed Milne. But it transpired that he’d only thought it. That was always the case with Milne. Reorienting was a slippery business for Milne, so he had developed a routine and tried maintaining it. Continue reading
Whose face will the traces for her pomegranate lip balm rent?
Who’ll father her child?
Who’ll keep her warm?
Who’ll wrap their lean thigh around her hip?
Who’ll love her like clay?
Who’ll she leave the door unlocked for?