From: the Bolivian orchestra stranded in a German Castle "The breathing techniques required to play these instruments for a few hours put you in a kind of trance," says Miguel Cordoba, who plays the siku flute. But as soon as the rehearsal finishes they are all too aware of how their life has changed. … Continue reading Guests of young Frederick of Prussia
History
Stillness #writephoto
Thursday photo prompt "... No, we can't detect any sign of human or humanoid life anywhere... There is plenty of life in the water, on land too, mammals and birds... plenty of beautiful insects..." "What about buildings, traces of recent organised activities?" "There are ruins, covered with vegetation, some remnants of railroads... We … Continue reading Stillness #writephoto
Within #writephoto
Thursday photo prompt This is our place now. You see: we'll be safe here, they won't find us easily. By then we will be prepared. Our spears a plenty, our axes a ready. Let them come for us, poor souls.
Between absence and presence
A reading of Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami This is Mr Murakami's latest work, published in Japan in 2017, and translated by Philip Gabriel and Ted Goossen (I guess: a tour de force). First of all, I must say that, in my view, this is Mr Murakami's most accomplished work thus far, a fascinating, … Continue reading Between absence and presence
Depleted #3TC
Three Things Challenge: PL19 uranium moss dancer It was getting late. Slowly the officer laid the photo on the table. "Do you recognise what those are?" she asked me with a smile. On the stage the one dancer started circling the pole. I looked down, and knew. "Hardened tank shells, probably depleted uranium. Fallujah?" … Continue reading Depleted #3TC
The Sight of Her #fivewords
Weekly Writing Prompt #178 rock, joint, inner, sight, sail Standing on a rock, alone, he lost sight of her shadow. Gone the tenuous line, the light joint in their inner lives, dissolved, her face less and less recognisable, a sail soon disappeared in the immensity of his despair. Image: Orpheus, by Pierre Amedee … Continue reading The Sight of Her #fivewords
Honour #writephoto
Honour The small crypt was still in darkness as we approached, on that frozen morning of January. Every year, on the same day, we gather here, on this desolate hill. As usual, we were silent, as all of us know the place, the rite, the reasons. Besides, had we anything to say we would … Continue reading Honour #writephoto
In the Pale Light of Winter #fivewords
Weekly Writing Prompt #175 charcoal, shade, pale, wake, lucid The rain fell, almost silent, but she could hear the little stream, outside, through the open window. She called the instant the lucid wake: those minutes before the first signs of the pale dawn. Then, everything is clear, the events of the past days in sharp … Continue reading In the Pale Light of Winter #fivewords
Spectral #writephoto
Spectral The old mill stands still, in the frozen landscape; there, they worked, had fun, sometime loved. Now, there is only emptiness, silent stones, pale ghosts recounting long forgotten stories. All round lived once a multitude, poor but hopeful. Children were born, iron was cast, dreams were woven. Why they all left, what was … Continue reading Spectral #writephoto
Beginnings #writephoto
Beginnings He knew where they had met, but he was less certain of when that was. He remembered the small town, and the woods, above all the woods, where they walked, kissed, watched the sun rise, the freezing dawns, enlaced, forever at one, with each other, and with the trees. She was the one, … Continue reading Beginnings #writephoto
