Term: Places
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My friend and I are hanging out at Rockefellers, a popular cosy bar in Abakaliki. A half-outdoor-half-indoor bar. There’s no wall separating the inside from...
I have been walking this street the major part of my life. It is not remarkable, as places gain prominence by postcards or accolades. Its...
My first trip to New York City I wore black: black leather boots, black dress, black panties, black bra, black glass-bead earrings against cotton-white skin....
A young guy in suction-cup jeans and laced-up white high-tops stares at me, then glances down, then briefly looks ahead as if sending Morse Code....
On the bus ride down the east coast of the South Island, the jagged shape of the Alps retreated into the distance on their southwesterly...
I had one mission on my summer trip to Miami: numb my mind in warm waves. With other tourists, I boarded the boat, the only...
I was searching for a farm underground, and I could not find it. My mother and I spun around Sangdo Station in a cloud of...
In a field overlooking the Thames estuary and the coastal plain close to where I live, is an inconspicuous cluster of small concrete structures and...
I was commuting an hour each way to culinary school, working as a local hospital cook, and owed the landlord cash-only for the month at...
I had once coordinated counterterrorism operations in a place where bombs went off every other week. Today, I could not transport groceries. I’d spent twenty minutes...
“During peak spawning, you can’t miss them,” I tell the group gathering at Plumb Beach. “But even when they’re not here in massive numbers, if...
I can’t pinpoint when I first started thinking about vultures, but I think it may have been when my husband informed me that a family...
I was already halfway across the bridge when I realised I had forgotten lunch again. The Arno slid past beneath me, the colour of oversteeped...
Lizzy’s backyard was rocking like the beats from her rickety headphones. She had a lawn the shape of the sun and blue flowers that grew...
You can’t own Lisbon. You only rent her breath. João scrapes mildew from the kitchen tiles of his uncle’s old flat, the blue glaze flaking...
One of my recent lovers told me that what happened might well have happened without the intrusion of Arthur Beamish. But how could it have? In...
The road trip was meant to be fun. It was, for a while. Then the excitement faded, and all that was left was ourselves. Nothing...
On my very first visit to Café Bagatelle, clutching a beaten copy of Homage to Catalonia and a notebook in my right hand, the heavy...