The European Chronicles Mrs H had already pulled up the platform before I’d finished my coffee. “Upwork,” she said, sliding the laptop across the desk. “Filter by location. Novi Sad.” I filtered by price first. No point pretending otherwise. I needed a local, not a professor — no historians, no certified translators with their footnotes…
Tag: women
The Memory Cartographer
Dear Readers, I’ve gone quiet on posts for a reason. The manuscript is on the table — all five books, being edited clean for publication. It’s slow, careful work, and it deserves full attention. While I’m in the edit, I’m reaching back into the material for the moments that stay with me. This one hasn’t…
The Memory Cartographer-Book V The Alkebulan Chronicles-Part II
Chapter 24 Abomey The city is already inside her before she reaches the restaurant. This is Benin. The old stories don’t wait to be invited. The city of Abomey hums beneath dusk’s golden light. I descend to the lobby and step into the car that’s appeared — another detail polished by Tarmo. Dressed, awake, flesh…
The Memory Cartographer-Book V The Alkebulan Chronicles- Part II
“Where the gods keep office hours” In the private cabin of Tarmo’s jet, somewhere over Mali, Elena collapses. What follows is not a dream. I press my palms flat against the tile, lower my head, and let the water wash over me for a while. But under the relief, the same question bubbles up—the one…
The Holographer’s Atlas
Maurice ’85/’91 In 1985 my mother left with Kahlil Gibran, her piano, and the ice-cold brain food she had served on a daily basis. What remained was my elderly father, a smaller house in the village, and suddenly — space. I stopped cycling thirty kilometres to school. I was tired of doing what was good…
The Holographer’s Atlas
The Constant There are men who loved you and failed you in the exact way that you have others, and you file them under known coordinates and navigate accordingly. Decades pass. Children grow, postcodes change, land numbers too, bad decisions, good ones, everything in between. Coasts remain. You teach yourself to call it nostalgia whenever…
The Memory Cartographer-Book V The Alkebulan Chronicles- Part II
Chapter 21 The White Queen Moves His final words fall cold, deliberate, like a blade laid flat, not put away. “So this one…” A pause, heavy as breath itself. “This one is on you.” I meet him with a glare, unflinching. “Just because I refuse to be used as some anthropological rook in your endless…
The Memory Cartographer-Book V The Alkebulan Chronicles-Part II
Chapter 19 Amellal The airport swallows us whole, its air heavy with dust, sweat, and kerosene. I settle back against the cart seat, my hand resting instinctively upon the curve of my belly. Departures have always lifted me—each voyage a renewal, a flight into possibility. But this time my spirit drags. It begins suddenly—a bloom…
The COMC Files – Alkebulan
PART II Chapter 18 The Drum Decides The sun, not yet harsh, dapples the dust ahead. Chickens perform bewildered little dances around our feet as we move through the market’s fraying patchwork of tarps. Karim cradles a paper twist of dried mango and grins. “Do you think the grandmother’s cloth is actually for luck, or…
A Birthday Zavet
from one woman crossing borders to all of you Dear sisters, friends, strangers-who-feel-familiar, I have crossed many frontiers in my life. Most of them were man-made. I lived by my own rules. For years I thought this letter belonged only to Russian women. I wrote it with their faces in my mind: ballerinas who escaped,…
The Memory Cartographer 