Edgar Whiteburn was fond of mundane tasks which didn’t require him to question the deeper questions in life. One day he saw an ad for a model plane in a magazine and, thinking it might suit him, ordered one for the modest price of $49.98. It arrived 11 days later.
During those eleven days he imagined the new hobby taking shape: sitting at his desk with a bright reading light, controlling the shaking of his hands as he carefully fit the pieces together, the smell of the model paint, applying the decals. He was already sitting in satisfaction at a job well done, his study steadily filling up with fighter jets, bombers, cargo planes-maybe he’d even branch out into cars, trains, ships. It was good to have such a hobby he thought, even divine. Read the rest of this entry »

Pofadder is a well-known town in arid, sparsely populated NW South Africa. However, its particular distinction is not one that draws many visitors.   To South Africans, Pofadder is the local equivalent of Timbuktu or Kalamazoo.  That is, it represents a place that is remote and out of touch with the civilized world.  The place is in fact so desolate that I drive through without realizing it.

The only signs of a town are a reduction in speed for about 1000 meters, a few shacks and a petrol station. In this part of the world, though, a petrol station is as good as a town.

As the speed limit returns to 120 I’m so puzzled by the almost complete lack of anything that I decide to go back to make sure it was actually Pofadder. Read the rest of this entry »

The first time I spotted him I was lounging on the lawn, writing in my journal.  He wore the same clothes as the plumbers who worked for my girlfriend’s parents, so I assumed he was one.  I walked up to him and introduced myself.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“James” he replied in a thick accent. Read the rest of this entry »

I was aboard a bullet train to Kyoto when he lurched down the aisle and temporarily into my life.  ‘The Eye’ was the first thing I noticed about him.  His left one was rolled back in his head to the extent that only a fraction of the iris was visible. Read the rest of this entry »

Despite being the dominant species on the planet, it takes a long time before a person is able to do much of anything.  Deer and horse can run an hour after birth.  Crocodiles and sharks are left to fend for themselves immediately.  Sea turtles must run a gauntlet of predators and battle pounding surf as soon as they take their first breath.  Human offspring, however, are utterly helpless the first few years of life.  Perhaps this is the reason a child’s scream is so earsplitting.  The inability to do anything for themselves is made up for by a voice that leaves no doubt something is needed. Read the rest of this entry »

“The drugs! Ditch the drugs! He’s coming!”
I chuck cans of beer into the brackish water, seize Pete’s bag and prepare to throw it as well.
“What are you doing man? Take it easy!”
“You goddamn hippy! This is your fault!”
Hunter has no reaction. He expressionlessly pilots the boat via his position in the back next to the outboard motor. We’re in the middle of a small lake that the river we navigated down empties into. Read the rest of this entry »

I

I step into the lobby, squinting at the sudden abundance of florescence. It seems hideously bright, like those lights they throw on the accused in a cop drama. I half expect a balding man in a suit to take off his coat, roll up his sleeves and tell me,
“If you tell the truth now, things will be easier…” Read the rest of this entry »

I measure from the top to the bottom of the stairwell and scribble something in my notepad. “Just a moment, please,” I tell the homeowner, “just gonna run out to the car and make the final calculations.”
Outside in my black sedan I fire up a joint. After a little more sketching I come up with a price of $3,269. I’m confident the figure doesn’t sound like it was just pulled out of thin air. Read the rest of this entry »