MY FATHER STANDS before us. A box camera in his beautiful hands. The long spring shadow of his narrow frame points directly at me. I wear a white, voile dress, and black, patent leather, ankle boots. Sitting on a small, wooden chair in front of the old house in Lille Tøyen. My eyes squint against […]
Category Archives: Short stories
WHETHER SKIING woodland trails, or hiking mountain ranges, Aunt Helga knew nothing if not to be the centre of attraction. For her it was the most natural place in the world. No sooner did she sprain an ankle, than a handsome stranger would pop up from behind a rock, or emerge from behind a tree. It was […]
Pedersen's Last Dream 