Journal

A fragment from a moment against the afternoon sun is stuck in my memory. The hot concrete under my bare feet, the same one a group of kids laid on, bellies down, no shirt, curls dripping salty water. A small, open white box held a bit of dirt and a few red worms. The white box also laid on the hot concrete, the shiny red worms reflected the sunlight. Bread and worms were stuffed into the metal hook, that was then thrown into the water they told us they were aiming for the bi

Just a few days ago we watched the sun set, lying down on our warm terrace floor, feet up, soaking up the last drops of golden sunlight...

The air was warm and heavy, the smell of summer was blowing through the open windows as we drove. The car seat was still warm as we left...

Small pieces of brown hair were carried by the sea breeze and ended up scattered throughout the stone, getting stuck on hot, damp skin....

There is just something about this place that always makes my heart quiet, leaving so much empty space behind. The space gets filled...

There is something bittersweet about moving out of the place you always called home and finding another version of that place, across the...

We had just arrived after a long car ride. We people watched, as people watched the sunset over the sea. The smell of cigarettes and the...

So I will keep the memory of that spring afternoon pressed like freshly picked petals between pages that tell stories of old tales. It...

Ever since I first stepped into Greece, a few years ago, it has always been occupying a little space in my mind and my heart. We first...