In Denmark, according to the Servants’ Statutes of 1854, anyone, seeking employment or wanting to leave his or her birthplace, should be able to prove he or she had been confirmed. All servants had to present a servant’s conduct book, which should be authorized by the local clergy or, in Copenhagen, by the police. In… Continue reading Master’s Right
How do you balance your time between writing and the business of being an indie author? Well, today I spent my free time interacting with people on Facebook. It may not sell books directly, although a strong presence on the internet should boost my career. But regarding balance, it is a tricky question. How does… Continue reading Equilibrium?
The Casting Couch Seventy-five and still going strong Boasting his penchant for rating a thong Old head on old shoulders wishing for luck Using his chutzpah to push for a suck: Elderly pig, wanting firm and young flesh Romance and lust but with somebody fresh Offering infamy as his sole bargain Sure, she won’t dare… Continue reading Triptych
My great grandmother had a sewing table, a real beauty. I remember it from my granny’s flat when I was a child. Later it came to me. It stands in my home now and has followed me from Denmark to England, and later to Bremerhaven. I think I’d bring it with me, wherever I might… Continue reading The Little Old Table
I never thought I’d live abroad. But I’ve barely set foot in my homeland for the past twenty-six years. What made me leave in the first place? I suppose it was a number of factors, spanning from feeling constricted in a small country to falling out with my husband. I was in a dead… Continue reading Living Abroad
In Hammersmith tube station Roses red, Larger than cabbage’s heads, Linger in watery tubs. Poster sized cards Sequined with hearts Fall off the shelves: Faint from significance. Drab men carry pink boxes Hoping to conquer the world Girls giggle and smirk Trying out lipsticks To match Their satin dessous… But in a faraway place… Continue reading Valentine’s
Green as Harp tones in the spring Liquid and soft like water spilling over the rim Grey cloud castles dissolve in mild vapour Or shatter drops on the fields Languor settles as pebbles rush and heave. Sea and earth meet As rainbows splitter the iridescence Tasting salt and sweet but Enveloping the hills in golden… Continue reading Ireland
Plumes of iridescent hues compete with Shrill cock-a-doodle-doos Minuscule spurs and tons of attitude Green tail-feathers raise and fall in perfect arcs Cockscomb gate-crashing hen nights With perfect assurance: Only a male bird can pull off such theatricals From ‘Animal Kingdom’ ©HMH, 2013