The following extract comes from the last few entries of a diary I found under a brick at 23 Victoria Grove. We had just moved in and I was cleaning up the front yard. Date: Wednesday, 12 October, 2011 It’s funny how these things happen. You suddenly lose both parents in an accident and then […]
“I don’t know,” she said to the young male shop assistant who was offering to supersize her drink. “I don’t really want twice as much. I don’t think I would be able to drink that much.” “Well,” said the young male assistant looking around to make sure no one could hear him. “I could help […]
I am a man who likes order and routine and I keep to one every day. I arise at 6.00am, toilet, have two large glasses of water, drag the dog around the block for 56 minutes, shower and catch the bus into the city to my place of work. At the Ministry of Planning, which […]
1. My Father was a great gardener. He could make vegetables sprout from the most unaccommodating soil. The aroma of fertiliser (just a nice name for chicken or horse shit) permeates the memories of my youth, as does the bounty of the garden tended by the old man. For all his green-fingerish skills, his aptitude […]
For the first time, you actually really notice the cost (“Oh my God, imagine all the other things I could have purchased with that amount. Well, if I don’t have lunch for the next three weeks, I may just be able to ….”).
Everyone was waiting for the revolution. They had all heard about others and the tremendous benefits a revolution would bring. They felt there was a great need for the population to rise as one and assuage war against the oppressors. This would be their crowd sourced revolution. From the people, for the people. Who would […]
I am the invisible man. I have been invisible all my life. I walk past cars and they don’t notice me. Tall buildings that stand regally in the sun, don’t even blink when I walk through their revolving doors. I am the invisible man. Nemesis to the vain, a burden to none.
I have a small, bronze coloured stone. It’s really a pebble, and it is the size and shape of a thimble that I have kept in my pocket for years.
Sometimes, if I have purchased a product for a friend or family member specifically because I admire the design, I will ask for the packaging, much to the disgust of my wife.
I love print work. As a writer, I love the craft you get to use and see how, when you get it right, it can directly affect people in weird ways.
citizenjoe 