Silent Home
Parracombe Prize 2020 Anthology
“He had a vague sense that his parents had lived through a different era, a history he didn’t know that was wrapped up tight and kept apart from the outside world, a history, ongoing, that was written into the dark brick of their house that had lived through two wars, a story that wasn’t communicated in words but echoed in the blunt look of their kitchen window above the table. A sense of time stopped, a clear awareness of absence.”
Grandma’s Hands
Litro Magazine, Online #Litrosunday, January 16, 2022
“Her hands were even bigger than his father’s, bigger than his face when he was born. But just like his father’s they moved at a steady pace. When her swollen knuckles burned, she let hot water run over the pain while washing dishes. At night, he watched grandma knit in front of the fireplace. She sat in her wide-armed chair next to his older brother’s wheelchair. His brother held the skein of red yarn between his pale hands and let the thread slide through his long fingers over limp legs.”