Chocolate Bar in the Sun_A Citizen of the World_How to Become a Better Writer_Helpless Panic
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Chocolate Bar in the Sun
Chocolate Bar in the Sun Pat SpencerMy father, Ubaba, worked as a guide at the Ilanga Safari Lodge in South Africa. He left before my sisters and I awakened, but www.onedoor.ccnever before tiptoeing in and kissing our foreheads. I would wrap my arms around his neck and wait for the warmth of his love to seep from my head to my toes as he whispered in our native tongue, “Jongani iintombi zam. Watch over my girls.” The times I failed to awaken, I worried how my day might go.That morning, Umama’s voice broke through my dreams. “Get up, my daughters. You are going on an adventure.”I jumped from the top bunk and...
A Citizen of the World
I jump back as a motorbike speeds right in front of me. The man atop the bike has no regard to my presence. I walked out of my hotel and I am now standing in the street. But there is nowhere else to stand. There are no sidewalks. I backed up into the walkway leading up to my hotel as another motorbike sped by me. I needed to find another place to stand as I figured out what my next move was. I walk down the road and find a pedestrian only street and I thank the travel gods for watching out for me.As I walk, the pedestrian walkway turns into a courtyard beside a church. There are hundreds of ...
How to Become a Better Writer
Like in the movies, Samantha believed that writers magically conjure paragraphs upon paragraphs from a nonexistent void. They dance like demons at night, playing on people's emotional vulnerabilities to make them fall for such a predictable movie script and believing that life is easy without consequence.Films depict writers typing away like adrenalized freaks of nature, zombified by turning in books, so they manage to write 200 pages in one week. Book publishers, astonished by this turn of events, reward the authors for their craft, and everyone has an excellent time, swooshing around wine in...
Helpless Panic
What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?“What do I do?” the frustrated words escaped her mouth in a whisper before she could stop them. Ainsly took a few steps down the crowded walkway of the platform after following the crowd exiting the train. She slowed to wait while the busy patrons rushed off to their next to-do. Once they all disappeared into the belly of the station, Ainsly found a bench in the middle of the railway area and sat down, gazing up at the curved steel beams supporting the massive station around the trains. Each set of tracks was mirrored on the ceiling by three parallel sk...