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It’s evening. Silvia is at a pay phone some distance away from her apartment, looking anxiously at the people on the street. The phone rings a number of times before a man’s voice answers in French, “You know what to do.”
Philippe’s answering machine.
“Philippe-it’s the only number I have. I need to talk to you. Are you still out of the country ( Read more... ) -
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The man standing at the foot of the steps is tired and stern. Your typical overworked cop. Grey hair ascends from his ears and fades into deep brown. A brunette with long, flat hair, baggy clothes and a similar expression paces next to him. The man stands still, his gaze set on Silvia. It makes her uncomfortable. And…something else ( Read more... ) -
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Night morphs into day without sleep. For many, insomnia is a nuisance that interrupts the rhythm of life like a cold. For Silvia, insomnia is as common as a headache. It can be caused by the sight of a child crossing the street. It can be perpetuated by the news. It could have no cause at all ( Read more... ) -
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The sky is clear on the day that changes everything. Silvia Broome mentions the empty blue sky to a security guard as she enters the United Nations. Yes, he says with a nod. Perfect day for flying. Silvia smiles and walks through the metal detectors, placing her bag on a conveyer belt. The security guard sees that she carries nothing but music ( Read more... ) -
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Well, it's a story about a woman who lives with her step family. She doesn't like them, and they don't like her. They make her do all the cleaning. There's going to be a ball one night in a castle with Prince Charming. All the women want to go, including Cinderella's family and Cinderella herself, but Cinderella can't go. They won't let her. On the ( Read more... ) -
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Silvia has been distracted. It happens, she's used to it, but she hates when the past springs up on her, forcing to see all those memories she'd rather ignore. Africa was easier to remember that way. She could look at the masks on her wall and think of the children, the flowers, the music and the dancing, think of her parents and sisters, of Simon ( Read more... ) -
Witwatersrand
When she feels upset, Silvia takes up the flute. It’s relaxing to her. Tonight, when she selected a traditional song, she courted distress instead of repose. It was the song Ajene Xola had first heard her play at Witwatersrand. In time, he would come to love more than her playing. He would come to love her, in the colorblind glory days of ( Read more... ) -
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“Goddamnit ( Read more... )