When the writer who was born into the family (and finished it) goes on to have his own family, does he keep up his truth-telling ways?Is he as cold-eyed a critic of his own handiwork?
‘He weighs four kilos and two kilos of that is fluff! How can he occupy so much space?’
No one suspected the blond boy’s cargo as he drove his crude pony cart through the streets of Charleston.
From where she sat at the back of the bus, the driver’s death was a confusing spectacle to Emily Jackson.
In jail he had made all these promises – ‘When I come out, I’m going to change’ – and when he came out he broke every single one of them, one after another. And to top it off, because he lived with us, my family started seeing this about him.
Not many people shift house because the dog killed the neighbour’s cat, a blue-eyed Himalayan worth a thousand dollars, but that is what we’re doing.
‘Land is the foundation of all our trouble’, said Te Rauparaha of Ngati Toa and Ngati Raukawa when asked to account for the circumstances that had led to the killing of twenty- two Pakeha settlers and two Maori at Wairau on 17 June 1843.
Discarded medical equipment litters the floor: surgical tools blistered with rust, broken bottles, jars, the scratched spine of an old invalid chair.
Wilhelm Brasse switched on the enlarger and a bright beam of white light fell on to the sheet of photographic paper.
Tokyo Station is packed. It’s been a while since Yuichi Kimura was here last, so he isn’t sure if it’s always this crowded.
When people say ‘terminal’, I think of the airport.