Kariba

By Richard | Published February 19, 2011

Last year was a pretty tough one for me, as I’m sure it was for many people. But unlike many people, at the end of it all I got to spend six nights on a houseboat with some good okes. The color from that experience drained into the year that preceded it, staining it with beauty, transforming it, like the white shirt you put in the wash with the red one.

Capturing the beauty and meaning of Kariba will take more than a fancy camera and good lighting. But maybe in these pictures you’ll still get some taste of the memories that left the year lingering smoothly on my pallet.

A lot of my favorite pics are ones that make you feel lonely. Like this Elly…

That’s real light, believe it or not…

Deano the Meano. Or, as our Captain called him: ‘Meano-me’. You have to hear it in his Zim accent though. Haha.

Our constant companions.

My first room-mate, Carel, was an artist, and our flat was filled with his paintings. My favorite was one with a woman crying, with rain falling under her umbrella, while the rest of the world was sunny. Kinda like this tree.

That’s a huge storm creeping in. But the fishing was so good we braved it till the last second…

Not a B&W picture.

These next three pics are of the sun going down on 2010. Yip, this is how we spent new year’s eve…

Yes you can swim in Kariba. Or said our captain.

This really was the mother of all storms, and it hit us hard. Rocked our boat in fact. Haha.

The sun rising on my current room-mate, Carl (no relation to Carel. Weird), birthday.

How we spent every evening.

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Photos | 6 Comments

A Parable: Sticks and Stones

By Richard | Published January 31, 2011

Donald and Evelyn lived in a little stone cottage in the Karoo. It was accessible by a dirt road that wandered through the desert, somewhere between Graaff-Reinet and Port Elizabeth. They had no neighbours, at least not for hundreds of kilometres, and they lived alone, with their dog Rusty. Donald used to farm sheep, but he gave that up as he grew old and his hands developed Arthritis. Evelyn still pottered around the house, cleaning and baking burnt peanut-butter biscuits. It was pretty quiet out there, the only sound coming from the occasional creaking of the Quiver trees alongside the muddy riverbed.

It might have been the fact that they had grown used to each other over the years, or were bored with each other, or perhaps didn’t even like each other too much anymore, but they never spoke. Not even Rusty made a noise anymore, perhaps because there were no more sheep to chase.

Sometimes when people age, they suffer from muscle degeneration, mainly because they become inactive. Muscle degeneration can eventually render one physically disabled, perhaps unable to walk. Donald and Evelyn still moved around a lot, and they had a healthy diet of Karoo lamb and cabbage, so they had no problems with their muscular system. However, they suffered a different form of disability: that of auditory degeneration.

You see because they never spoke to each other, and because the Karoo is a pretty quiet place, and because Rusty had stopped barking, their hearing degenerated and they became deaf. It wasn’t the worst possible disability for them, for at least they were able to walk along the muddy river under the Quiver trees, and plant cabbages in their vegetable patch, and watch the sun set over the khakibos. And since they never spoke anyway, it did not seem too much of an issue, except for the odd occasion when the one needed to summon the other; to breakfast, to lunch, to dinner, to bed. That and the odd need for Evelyn to alert Donald to a Steenbok which was about to destroy their cabbage patch.

In these instances there was really only one way to get each others attention, and that was to throw stones at each other. It may seem a little barbaric, but the stones in the Karoo are not only plentiful, but sandy, and break on impact anyway. Of course the sheer volume of stone throwing meant that sometimes a genuine rock was hurled which sometimes caused damage. It was for this reason that some of the windows in the stone cottage were boarded up, and why Donald sometimes wore his old mining helmet when working on the cabbage patch, particularly around meal times.

The system mostly worked, despite a few injuries, and they were able to continue their life of silence and distance. The sticks and stones may not have broken their bones, but spoken words surely would have been safer.

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Thoughts | Tagged | 2 Comments

A Belated 2010 list

By Richard | Published January 13, 2011

Ok so this post is a little late, as I’ve definitely missed the year-end-list blog festival, but the seeds were there and I couldn’t let them go to waste. And it will buy me some time to get the usual wordfeast posts back up and running…

So in the next few posts I’ll be sharing my best of 2010 list, from the random and arbitrary, to the meaningful and life-changing. Lets start with the former:

Movies

1. Inception

Maybe it was the brand new never-been-done-before idea, maybe it was the genius of Leonardo, or maybe it was just that eerie trumpet blowing in the background all the time. Either way, any movie that gets me watching it in the cinema back-to-back has something special. Wait, I did that with twilight too…(insert embarrassed emoticon here).

2. Shutter island

Another Leo movie, hmmm, he might be moving into man-crush department if he continues this streak. I was strongly coerced to watch this one, as the trailers made it seem like a horror movie, and I’m not into paying to get scared. Turns out it’s just a thriller, with an incredibly dynamic plot, the kind you argue about for hours on what actually happened in the end. It also gave me a rich depository for some new sermon illustrations, which is much needed, since the Matrix was getting pretty old.

3. The Book of Eli

Did you notice that there’s no color in this movie, not until the end? I love black and white photos, the kind with texture and gradient and emotion. The whole movie had that effect, along with a hero who turns out to be blind. Oops, hope you’ve already watched it…

Music – Christian

This category blew wide open in 2010, mainly because David Crowder didn’t release an album. Here are my winners:

1. Hello Hurricane – Switchfoot

I’ve never been the hugest fan of the band, but this album was special. Honest, real, varied, and a title track that woke me up every day of the year. Which could mean I was brainwashed in some way…

(Technically it released at the end of 2009, but it was close enough. And besides, there really wasn’t much else to pick from)

Music – Not

1. Love – Angels and Airwaves

With by far the most plays on my itunes list, this album certainly deserves a mention. That and the fact that they hold the record for the longest song intro’s. This album certainly saved many a moody day (and it was a free download! Got to love those guys!).

TV – Series

One of the most exciting acquisitions of the year was an HD PVR and Sony Bravia tv (Thanks Roomie!). That meant finally having access to the world of series, and saying goodbye to a whole lot of productivity. Here were the ones that distracted me most:

1. Kings

It could have been the basic David-Saul plot that lured me in, but I think it was more the fantastic cast, great production and absolutely addictive plot that kept me hooked. Thanks Mike for the heads up on this one.

2. Defying Gravity

Aliens, Space, love affairs (not with aliens). What’s not to like? And a great cast, great production, great story…

3. Lie to me

What is it with Protagonists who are rude, obnoxious, unrealistically smart, and chicks still dig them even though they’re old? Personally I couldn’t stand the ‘House’ type, but the Lightman type totally sold me. And I learnt a lot about lying, which may help my ailing poker game.

TV – Commedy

In the comedy category there really were two stand-outs which no other sitcom could come near:

1. Modern family

‘Feel’ has to be the funniest guy on tv, the gay couple never cross the awkward line, and Al Bundy is way better as a rich dad than a loser. And the two wives really are babes, it has to be said.

2. Community

Quite a big cast of main characters, all of whom hold their own and could someday end up hosting their own talk show. Talk about talent. Who’s your favorite? Cmon, we all have one…

Books – Fiction

1. Shantaram

I started reading this on North beach Durban, after watching Holland vs Slovakia at the Moses Mabhida stadium. It was a warm sunny day and the vibe on North Beach was incredible, but I needed a book, and so I stole this one out a friend’s bag while she was swimming. She never  got it back.

Great writing, great one-liners, great-many liners, and a story that puts you at the heart of a city you’ve never been to. And if you have, you’ve never experienced it like this before. Definitely the most absorbing read of the year. Heck I even used a few quotes in sermons, which is pretty good for a non-Christian book.

2. East of Eden

I finished this one while lazing about on a houseboat on lake Kariba. I’m pretty sure though, that it was the book and not the surroundings that has seared it into my being. I’m now on a mission to read all of Steinbeck’s stuff, even the ones that didn’t win Nobel prizes. The dead Russians finally have some competition.

Books – Christian

1. Counterfeit God’s – Tim Keller

My most significant step-change in my relationship with God happened in 2001. I’ve certainly grown tonnes since then, but there was one issue that continued to cause chaos  in my life since that day. It has to do with identity, and with the need to prove our worth through what we do. Finally, in 2010, with the help of mentors, friends and this book, I think that virus got cured. Or at least got a real beating, even if just for the time being.

2. Travelling light  – Eugene Peterson

There had to be a Peterson book on the list somewhere, and this time it was his commentary on the book of Galatians, with one main theme: Freedom. Let’s not kid, none of us feel free, and yet it has to be our deepest desire. Scripture promises it, this book helped me access it.

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Reviews | Tagged | 1 Comment

The Power of Images

By Richard | Published November 24, 2010

I have an image in my mind. It’s a picture of a deep canyon folded between a lonely pile of mountains. There’s a wide waterfall flowing into the canyon, a powerful one, the kind where the spray almost obscures the view. Out of this canyon some birds are flying through the mist, heading towards the dark forests on the mountains. I want to  be there. Badly.

I used to have that picture on my desktop but I took it off because I knew I’d never get there, and the disappointment was too much for me to take. That’s the power of images: an emotional connection.

Pictures are two dimensional. Someone flew over that canyon once and painted the moment with light, but it has only length and width to it. Of course these days someone could fly over that canyon and film it on HD and we could watch in 3D, adding the axis of depth. That would enhance the picture some.

But an image is far more than a picture, because it has a 4th dimension: Emotion. An image is nothing more than a picture with an emotion attached, which makes them powerful, like the gravitational pull of that canyon.

People have ruined this concept by using it to sell things, like fried chicken or a deodorant. What they’re doing is sneakily gaining access to my emotion through the picture and manipulating me with it. I can’t say I mind too much, I mean I like fried chicken and deodorant, but the problem does get worse than the Colonel’s secret recipe.

They say that men are visual creatures, which I always thought was pretty obvious, otherwise we’d be bumping into things all day. I guess what they mean is that a picture of a naked woman can be stored in our minds forever causing all sorts of chaos, and so we shouldn’t look at those sorts of pictures. That’s kinda hard when they’re plastered on billboards next to the road.

The other day I was walking through a shopping centre with some friends, and we kept walking past some advertising which used some pretty erotic pictures to sell fragrances and shoes. As much as we tried not to look, it only takes a second for that picture to get in the head.

For that reason I don’t think we can avoid the pictures, but we can avoid the images. That sounds simple, but it’s not, because it means we have to control the attached emotion. Which means go a lot deeper, to the place where feelings meet the mind. That’s where the real action is. And if we can win on that front, we can beat the images and all their associated power, whatever they may be.

“The lamp of the body is the eye. If therefore your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in you is darkness, how great is that darkness” Matthew 6:22-23

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Thoughts | Tagged | 1 Comment

Dont let the weather stop you

By Richard | Published November 18, 2010

Today is a pretty miserable day. Clouds all over, something wet falling from the sky. It’s the kind of weather people hope to stay indoors to, watching a movie or reading, or something warm and fuzzy like that. It’s kind of tempting I agree, but I remember an occasion when braving the weather led to an unforgettable moment.

Every January we try go diving somewhere, and usually we end up at Sodwana Bay. One year my brother and I were supposed to go to Mozambique but we only remembered that we needed passports once we had reached the border, so we turned around and ended up at Sodwana. It’s one of my favorite places in the world, because people go the beach to have fun, not flex their muscles and tan. I once counted 30 boats on the water, along with hundreds of 4×4′s lined up on the beach, people kite surfing, kayaking, snorkeling, fishing and playing in the ocean. People need to play, even when they’re 40 years old.

Our last diving trip at Sodwana was much of the same: Diving eating sleeping eating playing eating playing sleeping, in that order. But it also had some epic moments thrown in. One of them was when my brother proposed to his girlfriend at the bottom of the ocean, under a huge coral arch. She said yes. The other was an unforgettable encounter with a certain Chondrichthyes.

It started badly, with a day like today: Clouds and rain. The joke is always that you’re getting wet anyway, so who cares about the rain right? Wrong. That day we had picked a dive which included a 7 mile boat ride, which means you spend more than 1.5 hrs bumping around and hanging on for dear life, fighting nausea, enduring rain that stings like needles. We might as well have been on a Humvee bouncing around the Arabian desert taking bullets in the chest.

When you eventually get underwater, the clouds spoil the visibility and you only get to see the fins of the guy in front of you, not to mention the currents that buffet you against the coral, like a punching bag swinging on a rope. We saw nothing on that dive, at least nothing worth remembering. After shivering it out for 45min we eventually ran out of air and retreated back to the boat.

It’s usually about this time I feel sea-sick, and getting back onto a boat rocking in the rain was no comfort. Once moving the nausea started to subside and the trip became about surviving the bullet storm. Pretty miserable. That is, until the skipper suddenly cut the engines and peered into the water. He turned to us and said two words: “Whale Shark”. Those two words encapsulate diving Mecca, much like ‘Vatican’ and ‘Sistine chapel’ do to the Catholics.

My brother and I just gaped at each other, and dived into the gear box to get the snorkels and fins on. Without even waiting for a signal from the skipper we belly flopped into the water and started chasing him. They swim slowly, not more than 5km/hr, so we caught up quickly. I dived under and headed toward him, taking with me all the oxygen I could squeeze into my lungs.

It was the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. He moved so elegantly, especially for the largest living fish species. It’s not just the size that mesmerizes you, but the beautiful patterns painted on the skin. I became a fish myself under there, forgetting I needed air, just staring and swimming around him. As my vision started to blur and I realised I needed air again, I came up for a gulp, and headed back down, lungs exploding. It didn’t matter. It was too beautiful.

Eventually the lack of oxygen to my muscles meant he got away, and I returned to the boat. There’s not much to be said after an experience like that. Just get back on the cold boat, in the choppy ocean, under the rainy clouds.

I keep thinking what I would have missed out on if I let the weather get to me. I’d ride through a hailstorm to have that experience again.

Now I’m thinking, imagine if I had stayed in bed today, on this miserable morning, and missed the glorious events that surfaced. It may not have been a whale shark, but it sure beat lying on a couch.

It got me thinking that on another level, when times are tough and it’s raining bullets on our lives, we mentally stay in bed, and miss the glory of what could be going on right in front of us.

Or beneath us, beneath the cold feet in the rocking boat. The Whale Shark.

Don’t miss it.

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Thoughts | 3 Comments

Behind the doors

By Richard | Published November 12, 2010

Doorways are the guardians of three-dimensional space. I have a door in my room, and I sleep with it closed, because sleep is a sacred space and I don’t want anyone peering in on it. I don’t lock that door though, in case I’m having a really bad dream and need to get out quickly. Or in case I put my back out in my sleep and no-one can get in to help me. That actually happened once. The point is I get to decide who gets in and out of my space by the installation of a door.

Doorways are also connectors of space. I have a door between my bathroom and the rest of the house because what you do in there is totally different from say, what you do in the kitchen, and thus the space needs to be separate, but still accessible. It would be helluva awkward otherwise.

Doorways are guardians and connectors of space, but mostly they are keepers-of-secrets. I know that doesn’t sound very pragmatic, but behind every closed door is a secret. It can be something trivial, like the mystery of whether there is actually food behind the door of my fridge, or something momentous, like a government deciding whether to bomb another country or not.

Closed doors are alive with endless possibilities. When I was little there was a cupboard in my dad’s workshop that was always locked, and I always imagined it to be a tunnel to a secret research facility where aliens were held. Who’s to say it wasn’t? The reality that it could be a national secret or a bunch of old tools existed side by side, kinda like Schrodingers cat. I wanted to open that door, but I never did. I guess I couldn’t risk the discovery that it just contained some rusty nails.

That’s the problem with doors. It’s human nature to want to know exactly what is on the other side, but we’re always too scared to really find out. Often we’d rather settle with imagining it being one thing or another, rather than know for sure.

And so we don’t venture through those doors. We don’t ask the girl out, because it’s easier to imagine she would have said yes than actually have her say no. We don’t take the job because it’s easier to have imagined it being all wrong than take the risk of finding out that it was right. Some people would rather imagine no Supreme creative Being than leap through the door of faith and find out that He does. And that the doorway connecting our space with eternal space is not guarded but wide open.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” Rev 3:20

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Thoughts | Leave a comment

The Beauty of Negative Space

By Richard | Published November 3, 2010

Sometimes whats missing defines whats really there. Artists use the description ‘Negative Space’ to describe this effect, the classic example being the vase/faces in the picture above. The idea is that the space around an object can define the object just as well, and sometimes more accurately, than the object itself.

Recently Dan Brown took this concept to a whole other level when he insinuated that the negative space in Leonardo’s classic Last Supper had some kind of coded meaning. Hmmm, that may be pushing the concept a little too far, but suffice to say if an artist really wants to create an accurate portrayal of an object they will learn to focus on negative space. I haven’t quite tried it myself, but all you budding artists can give it a go here.

Apparently it means a lot in music too, although my source is less than credible. “Play the Pauses”, the violin teacher bellows at his student. She’s Meiying, the little Chinese girl that the Karate Kid has a crush on. Her whole defining moment in the movie comes when she learns to play the pauses in the music, I guess something like enhancing the music without actually playing.

I don’t know too much about music or art, but I like the concept that the absence of matter around an object defines it.  I know that in our lives we spend a lot of effort focusing on the things that we do, in order to mold a better version of ourselves. Perhaps we should give more attention to negative space? By this I don’t mean trying to not do dodgy stuff, like kill someone. We all know that. I mean spending some time concentrating on who I don’t want to be.

I don’t want to be an impatient and angry time-bomb who is provoked to explosion by the poke of a bad driver. I don’t want to be a cynical and depressive melancholic who only sees the world in shades of grey. I don’t want to be a shallow and materialistic narcissist who only sees myself and others at the surface of their skin. I don’t want to be that guy.

For sure, there’s the positive side of who I want to be: Awe-inspiring conqueror and hero of the world. But sometimes the positive space is misleading. The negative space however, never lies.

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Thoughts | Tagged | 2 Comments

The Stories inside our Heads

By Richard | Published October 23, 2010

I went to bed last night with the sun streaming through the window. Well it wasn’t the sun really, it was the street lamp outside, but it felt like the sun. I woke up this morning with the sun streaming through the window, this time it really was the sun. I no longer have curtains on the big window in my room, because I tore the entire curtain rail off the wall in a fit of anger. Well I’m not sure it was a fit of anger really, it was hard to tell, because I was asleep at the time.

Sleepwalking is a funny thing. The conscious is shut-down but the sub-conscious is still wide awake, processing vital information, like the correct amount of strength to break the plastic wall mounting unit. It’s pretty incredible how it all works, except for neglecting the part about avoiding the metal fan-stand with my toe. But still, it’s amazing what the body can do while the conscious is inactive. It’s like like those fancy games where guys wear video helmets with some scene playing inside the visor, and they participate in the game by thrashing their bodies about. The only difference is that when sleepwalking you dont get to choose the scene.

There’s an amazing power to the stories playing out inside our heads. Whether that translates to some weird action while sleeping, or just contributing to a mild form of depression when waking up after a bad dream. There’s a tangible effect to the story going on upstairs.

Maybe we should try roll a good story on the screen? It may not save my curtains, but will surely command the more important waking hours that constitute my life.

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” – Phill 4:8

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 4 Comments

The real Antagonist

By Richard | Published October 11, 2010

Human beings are born to fight. Literally, we exit the womb fighting. I haven’t heard of a baby sliding out the womb with a smile on it’s face, arms open wide, embracing its new world. I cant remember that day myself, since it was quite a while ago, but I’m pretty sure the kid wants to get back in there, badly, considering the fuss they’re making.

We soon grow up and fight against eating lumpy pudding, fight to be first to play the gameboy and fight the boy over the girl. Fast forward a few years and fighting gets professionalised and endorsed in the scrabble for attention we call sport. We then fight job applicants, fight to get to the top of the corporate ladder, and fight the traffic that comes with that highest rung.

We’re born and bred fighters, battling our way through every day. I guess it’s not something we can avoid entirely, but I do think we have to pick our battles, or more specifically, pick our enemy.

I watched Million Dollar Baby the other day, and what really struck me about the movie was it’s message on fighting. If you haven’t seen the film, it’s about a woman named Maggie who wants to be a boxer, and the coach who reluctantly agrees to make a fighter out of her.

She’s pretty good, and sets about knocking other woman out all over the place. Of course the movie has to have an antagonist, in this case an ex-prostitute German slugger who fights dirty. They made sure we knew who the baddie was.

So they fight, and if this were a Disney movie the good girl would have won, despite the dirty tactics of her opponent. But she didn’t, she broke her neck. Having been molded by the feel-good naivete of Hollywood I expected her to make a comeback and smash this monster in the face and be queen of the world. That would have been nice. But she never recovers, and she spends the rest of the movie paralysed.

What fascinated me so much is how the movie never once indulged our desire for the antagonist to be punished. I so badly wanted the baddie to get beaten in some way, by somebody. But she doesn’t get a feature, in fact we don’t ever see the butch German woman again. Instead the movie becomes about Maggie’s new battle, living as a lonely, disabled, ex-boxer. It’s like the antagonist has switched from a person to something else, something less physical.

It’s almost like the movie is saying that the real battles in life are never about people. That maybe they’re against hatred, unforgiveness, anger, loneliness, hopelessness, jealousy and other evils like that. Maybe the fights that count, the ones we should be entering, have nothing to do with people in the first place.

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” Eph 6:12

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Thoughts | 4 Comments

The Drug Line – Final Chapter

By Richard | Published October 5, 2010

‘The Drug Line’ is a short story about a group of people forced to share their time together in a hospital queue. The bare hospital walls provide the setting for a display of some of the complex facets of love. Read Chapter 4 here.

This time Grant arrives early. He wants to make sure he gets a seat up front, next to Harry. He only has to wait a few minutes before he hears the door squeak open, and sees a ragged outline silhouette out of the sunshine. It has an almost angelic appearance, complete with fake halo created by the back-lit sun, and sparkles of light formed by the dusty sunbeam. Maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks on him, the previous day’s business projecting false holiness on the rumpled old man.

He has to make sure: “Harry, are you certain you want to go through with this? One last chance to change your mind?”. Harry hasn’t even had a chance to take his seat. He sits down as a king would on his throne, a newness of confidence exuding from the frail figure. He slowly takes off his glasses, eyes glinting, radiance no longer due to any lighting effects. His hands fold and he takes a breath.

“I think I’ve lived through it all, every significant human experience, every meaningful phase of life. I’ve experienced the freedom of being a child, the insecurity of being a teen, the steadfastness and resolute intention of a young adult. My heart has squirmed in puppy love, swollen in obsession, and been impregnated and solidified in committed lifelong love. I’ve had the dignity of causality, creating and forming family, along with the satisfaction of providing for that economy. My mind and heart and soul have been torn through the tension of joy and pain that is inevitable in this journey. And yet they’ve always been healed again, with a deeper sense of peace that comes through rebuilding on stronger foundations. I think we all get to experience this, at least we should. You should. Matt should.”

Grant takes a brown envelope out of his pocket and hands it to Harry. “Here’s your copy then. It’s been done”. The ground shudders as the hatch rolls up. Grant gestures to Harry to go ahead of him: “One last time”. The words pierce Harry’s side as he realises the magnitude of what he is doing. As emotions beg to flow he stands up and walks to the hatch, pulling on the glasses. Mary slides him the container, nervously glancing up she senses a new kind of darkness in the room. Not the gloomy type that followed Matt the last few days, but one that hides hope behind it, peeking out like stray rays of sun behind a curtain.

As he turns to leave, he hesitates, and turns back toward Grant. He meets him halfway to the hatch and presses the container into his hand: “To remind you, to live life fully. And to look after those two kids”. At this he smiles, nods toward Mel and asks Grant: “Tell her to give Matt a call. He could use some company, I’m sure she’d love to shift her attention from old folks like to me to young guys with a new lease on life”.

Grant watches as Harry walks out of the room one last time. He’s still stranded halfway to the hatch, motionless, pill container propped up in his open hand. Sister Mary watches silently from the one side, Mel the other. He closes his hand as Mel approaches him, but she’s already realised what’s happened. Her hands are covering her mouth, only one word sneaking through: “Why?”

Grant puts the container in his suit pocket, bringing out the other brown envelope at the same time. “Perhaps you should be the one to give this to Matt. It’s Harry’s will. He changed it yesterday, leaving everything to Matt. In a few days it will come into effect, when Harry’s life slips away”. He absent-mindedly pats his pocket, the one which contains the unmistakable shape of a decision to exchange one life for another.

Mel crawls into a hug with Grant as he stares out of the window. Behind them Sister Mary leans and rests her chin on her hands. The sound of the door handle causes them all to turn, experiencing a new sunrise in the room as the light floods in. A thin shape bends through the door and walks slowly to the chairs. He’s tattoo laden, with a shy smile on his face. He’s Ed, and he’s new to the drug line…

Did you like this? Share it:
Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments