23:23, I knock at the door. The instructions were clear.
I knock again, this time it opens, I step inside. No sound, but the clicking of my heels on the hard floor.
Hundreds of candles burning, a mattress on the floor, a sleeping shape. I get close.
It's me.
Mini sagas are short, self-contained stories, of exactly 50 words. I’m using them as a way to practise storytelling. Sometimes inspired by a photograph, other times they are the inspiration for images, to complement the stories.
From the ever growing archives. Not really random, but I feel random enough.
So it’ll do for today.
On a foggy morning while walking through the old town, I came upon a strange shop.
Filled with curiosity, I peaked through the glass door.
Inside two men, busy at work. One held a body-less head, the other, a leg.
When they finally looked up, I screamed and ran.
Mini sagas are short, self-contained stories, of exactly 50 words. I’m using them as a way to practise storytelling. Sometimes inspired by a photograph, other times they are the inspiration for images, to complement the stories.
Judging from the photos taken during the year, this is what I have been up to:
Happy New Year!
My Instagram feed lately: drawings and autumn views.
Mr Giant ate his lunch — a ham and pickle sandwich with milky tea — standing on Oxford Circus.
He couldn't find a seat to fit his frame. And by now his feet were killing him.
As he moved on a side road to lose the crowd, he spotted the perfect place.
Mini sagas are short, self-contained stories, of exactly 50 words. I’m using them as a way to practise storytelling. Sometimes inspired by a photograph, other times they are the inspiration for images, to complement the stories.