The Taste of 3 A.M. by Mercel Meyers
In the short story, The Taste of 3 A.M. by Mercel Meyers, the good the bad comes back around.
Continue readingShort Stories
In the short story, The Taste of 3 A.M. by Mercel Meyers, the good the bad comes back around.
Continue readingMarijke Hillmann is our first featured recurring author. She is currently writing a novel about a 40 year period she spent in Africa. We are very overjoyed to have her works on our site.
Continue readingBroken Windows by Marijke Hillmann It is lunch time in a Johannesburg factory. Kagiso, Gift and Tau are
Continue readingShe came to know a place, a very cheap hotel, where she had no past but was only the present. Sitting on the verandah at night watching mosquitoes immolate themselves in the kerosene lamps.
Continue readingIt all started when Jamie dusted off her Encyclopedias.
She was in the attic with her seven year old son, John. She stared at the heavy texts and shook her head. Now you could read about Giraffes or Atlas Moths on Wikipedia.
Continue readingWe lived in an apartment a quarter of a mile from the heart of the city. Our room was nestled into the back with a decent walk in closet and bathroom.
Continue readingThe camper ambles its way through the Tete Province, Mozambique on a sweltering, humid late afternoon in 1975. Our 13 months? old son is dozing off in his seat ? I sit next to him and hold the bottle he has just finished drinking.
Continue readingThe lone car sits in the deep of the morning, waiting for its owner to return. The car had been parked in this same spot the day before, glistening with the moistness of the morning dew. At 4:00 a.m. the sky still shadows the darkness all around the town, hiding the sins of its citizens.
Continue readingSir, these are fresh vegetables, plucked in the morning
Continue readingCarol got on the bus, sat down, and quietly wept.
Continue readingThe front left wheel of Jack’s shopping cart spun in circles, making it hard to push up the incline and over the rough asphalt. He leaned his hip into the left side of the handle, and it went more or less straight. It was time to find a new cart.
Continue readingWe eat scrambled eggs around the scratched wood kitchen table, wiping the sleep from our eyes and kneading it from our necks. We slather sunscreen on the babies’ puckered faces, we haul the pink-and-
Continue readingHerman by Marijke Hillmann is part of our series Africa in Short. Each month we have a new story from Hillmann about the time she spent in Africa.
Continue readingHe knew before he entered that the sound was leaking. Fork clanging plate, glass clinking glass, laughter. It travelled under and through the door, into the hallway. It seeped
Continue readingI walked through the tall oak doors, entering the dark library. I stopped at the front desk, and knocked on the surface, vainly hoping that someone would be there
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