We sat inside a circular house of one room, the walls composed of a type of mud brick and the roof thatched from dark green foliage weaved together into an intricate pattern. A fire lay in the middle of the room, where food upon skewers was cooking, the vapours of which floated up through an … Continue reading The Eternal Fate of Captain Edward Fiott
“As soon as I get enough money for a ship back to England I’ll plant my feet in her earth and never take to sea again. As soon as I get the money,” he said and turned around to order another round of scotch. I refused this offer. He complied, moving my glass to his … Continue reading The Whispered Fate of Captain Edward Fiott
In writing this, I guarantee explanation of how I came to Oyo and how I left. I cannot guarantee explanation for the events that took place once I arrived. My reason for travelling down the western coast of Africa is not one of conquest or the plundering of natural resources. I have nothing against those … Continue reading The Living Fate of Captain Edward Fiott
Second to none, the guilt of not sleeping keeps one awake.
1 Herr Mathias Gröning, I regret to inform you that your wife passed away during childbirth at approximately 19:06 today, the 11th of July, due to complications that arose from a caesarean section. Despite your wife's death the procedure was a success, you are the father of a baby boy weighing 9½ lb. He has the same … Continue reading Four Letters from the Life Lived by Oskar Gröning
do you collect awards in the shower... and imagine and mutter speeches in your head, thanking home, mother, and garden shed, do you travel in the dying light to the tennis wall, in second hand clothes, thankful for the absence of mirrors, this absence felt and found in the park by the highway on one … Continue reading tennis dreams
I talk to you, my last friend, because you do not attempt solution nor contribute to the illusion of solution. I talk to you because you listen and because you occasionally blink, unlike God who I cannot see blink and, therefore, who I cannot know listens.