“So she would continue to feel like a foreigner in their home, it was her home too, after all she was the one who kept the home fires burning.”
This morning the kitchen cupboard smelled like spices. She was scratching for something. She had to have it. Otherwise the meal would not be perfect. It would be less-than-perfect and she would prefer to have it otherwise. What made him happy would make her happy but today of all days she could not find it. The perfect ‘it’ that would complement the dish.
Abigail George studied film and television production for a short while, which was followed by a brief stint as a trainee at a production house. She is a writer and poet. She has lived in Johannesburg and Port Elizabeth but she is currently living in Port Elizabeth. She has had poetry published in print and online. She has had short fiction published online. In 2005 and 2008 she was awarded grants from the National Arts Council in Johannesburg. She is not purely devoted to poetry but to pursuing writing fulltime. Storytelling for her has always been a phenomenal way of communicating and making a connection with other people.
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