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His steps echoed on the cobbled street, and he knew he was going in the right direction; he clearly remembered that there were cobbles only in the oldest streets of town, leading to St Mary’s Church. He forced himself to stop running, for he knew he was safe now, concealed by the dark in the part of town where he was less expected to be found. He thought that there was only one person who could have guessed where he was going to hide. But he already provided to eliminate the problem earlier on. Know your enemies, was his first rule. He slowed down and thought how thrilling it always felt to be back home, whatever the situation was. It felt even better than last time, for it had been a long time and for he was both thrilled by the feeling of being where he belonged and by the excitement of having successfully eliminated the problem.

Ettore never understood my sense of displacement. Life had been so easy on him and he was too quick in his judgements. He knew me well for sure, but he hadn’t realized that I knew him better, especially in his weaker points. Continue reading Home (extract)

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She wondered why people still defined them small gestures. A word at the right time, a caress, a smile, a kind gesture. She believed that kind and discreet gestures were never small, she found the were precious and extraordinary. Then again most people considered important the things that she always found superfluous. Flowers on Valentine’s Day, Christmas presents, engagement rings. People labelled their feelings as if they couldn’t be true without definition and public recognition. She never needed labels for anything, and less of all she needed to label her feelings. She knew what was true and what wasn’t, and there was anything truer than the way she felt when he held her in his arms. She was happy to leave labels to other people. Very happy.

Writing The City

The result of last week’s free writing exercise at Writing to Order seminar with Nuala Casey.

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His steps echoed on the cobbled street, and he knew he was going in the right direction; he clearly remembered that there cobbles only in the oldest streets of town , leading to St Mary’s Church. He forced himself to stop running, for he knew he was safe now, concealed by the dark in the part of town where he was less expected to be found. He thought that there was only one person who could have guessed where he was going to hide. But he already provided to eliminate the problem earlier on. Know your enemies, was his first rule.