Anna stood wistfully staring at the sky whilst dear little Molly, just three years old, looked up at the pretty doll with beautiful long blonde tresses in the window of the toy shop on the edge of town. “Mummy” Molly said, “that’s the doll I would like Father Christmas to bring me”……… a tear rolled down Anna’s cheek…., seen only by the moonlight………… she knew that it would be impossible for her to buy poor little Molly anything this year. They were supposed to start a new life in Spain …

The hair restoration television commercial begins with the announcer asking, “Men, is your life missing something?” Bald men sulk in front of mirrors, trying on baseball caps and running their hands through thinning or non-existent hair. Then they dramatically hang their heads and shake them in defeat.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints’ television commercial begins with the announcer asking, “Is your life missing something?” Housewives, elderly folks, and young urban professionals sit in their cars, rocking chairs, and behind their office desks. They look beaten down by …

My eyes were drawn to one of the paintings are displayed neatly in front of me. Today is Thursday, right in the month of August in 2011. I walked to one of a very dark room, my feet stepped on something, I’m surprised, I turned around and lowered my head, look over there a middle-aged woman who was painting. I’m confused as to why in this dark room there was a woman who paints only with a speck of light candles in front of him. I did not dare approach …

“Listen Dave, where gonna put the money in the bag, stuff the rest of franklins in the safe so the cops can’t FIND it!”
Matthew slaps Dave in the face.
You listening!?!?
“Oh course I’m listening,! What the buck you think I’m doing here. Fiddling with my fingers! This is REAL LIFE, I AINT PLAYING NO GAMES!” Dave’s voice rose higher than marijuana smoke brain activity. He huffed, puffed and settled into a calming state of mind.
Matthew and Dave were both bent down. Knee high, waist low, like paying respects to a tomb. …

Today is 3rd of June. Two years back , this day Aru was with Meenal. It was her birthday and just 2 days later was Aru’s birthday. Since last few years they had been celebrating both of their birthdays together on the same day. They had outed the whole day, had a beautiful candlelit homemade dinner.
But today Aru is all alone. He has just returned from the Village hospital. Tired and exhausted he lies on the cot of his small quarter. He tries to dose off, but thoughts keep propping …

It was dark and wet. Spring had just arrived and all was quiet but for the sound of his heavy breathing and the dripping water. His snoring echoed throughout and frightened intruders away.
All of a sudden, he woke up coughing and heaving. He scrambled for a cigarette and found a half smoked one in the ground. It was damp and moldy, but he didn’t care. He lit up and the coughing stopped. His breathing slowed down. His eyes were bloodshot and he could taste the bitterness of his own breath. …

I open the door, prepared to be cross with him but he launches himself at me out of the midnight darkness, all wild hair and leather and bone crushing hugs and I can’t remember why I was mad in the first place.
“Okay. You’re going to have to figure out how to move around the house with me hugging you because I am not letting you go,” he declares in that adorably boyish manner of his.
“B-b-but! I have to go to the bathroom!” I cry in mock distress as we begin …

I bend over the bar. For her, not for drinks. She says: “Finnish”; and it all starts right there.
“Finnish”, I smile. “Finnish” I wonder and I smile. F-i-n-n-i-s-h, I let it drup in, drup, drup,
drup, letter for letter.
“Lapland”, I think;
“Cold”;
“Foreign affairs” (I just read an article that mentioned the Finland model, questioning myself
what that could be);
“Somewhere north”;
“Cold”?!;
“Bears”? No, no bears I believe, and I smile.
I take another sip of my Friday eve beer. It’s a pity for those bears, I like bears. Maybe I
should go to Greenland and find some …

Laetitia is wearing colorful socks, a bit like mine, but wilder. Women have more choice when it comes to socks. Women have more choice in general. Her socks are pinky with yellow and green spots. I noticed those colors immediately, I’d describe them as bright little monsters devouring the pink. I am sure she disagrees with that statement. She ‘d call them cute little things. She is a girl. We disagree a lot, and often. Yet I fall about those raised eyebrows on her face, over and over. She chuckles, …