Hollyhocks
I can’t remember exactly when hollyhocks began to bloom across Amsterdam. It feels as if, one summer, they were suddenly just there, reaching up through the paving stones and covering gable ends with wild abandon.
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I can’t remember exactly when hollyhocks began to bloom across Amsterdam. It feels as if, one summer, they were suddenly just there, reaching up through the paving stones and covering gable ends with wild abandon.
Continue reading‘Yeah, well… boys will be boys,’ he says.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that you shouldn’t read anything into it.’
Continue readingHe could sit here forever and be happy. He’s said that too. More than once.
‘Do you know what? I’m happy, so I am. Really, I am.’
His disappearance has left me out of kilter, and unbalanced. Facing east, I stop in my tracks, as if waiting for the signal to continue, waiting for the nod. But the man I always nod to is not there…
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