The Sea

The Sea

As I was heaving myself over in a tangle of sheets—I have never been able to cope with bedclothes—I caught a whiff of my own warm cheesy smell. Before Anna’s illness I had held my physical self in no more than fond disgust, as most people do—hold theirselves, I mean,...
Luster

Luster

I go back inside and throw on my least wrinkled dress. I look into the mirror and practice my smile because they moved me to a desk where my manager can see my face, and I have noticed her growing concern. Management claims they moved me so that I am more accessible...
Congo Journey

Congo Journey

In her hut in Poto-Poto, the poor quarter of Brazzaville, the feticheuse, smiling at us, knelt on the floor, drew out a handful of cowrie shells from the cloth bag at her waist, and cast them across the raffia mat. Lary Shaffer and I, despite ourselves, leaned forward...
The Outsider

The Outsider

The trigger gave. I felt the underside of the polished butt and it was there, in that sharp but deafening noise, that it all started. I shook off the sweat and the sun. I realised that I’d destroyed the balance of the day and the perfect silence of this beach...