She’s on her way back home in the train, when her mobile starts to buzz. It’s her daughter. ‘Hi mom, where do we keep the little plastic bags?’ ‘Well, eh, you’ll find them in the top left drawer, way in the back. There must be a roll of bags in there. Why?’ She hears her… Continue reading Parental Pride →

‘So you and your husband and daughter are here on holiday,’ asks Rosa. ‘Tell me girl, are you married?' She has put her hand on my shoulder and I smell the cigars in her breath. ‘Erm, no,' I answer. ‘That’s good, very wise of you,’ says Rosa. From this close I notice she has a… Continue reading Rosa →