Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on friday 6 july 2018
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Episode 25
The next day at work found Dave Frankston feeling elated. Everything was going as planned and now Conno had phoned him yesterday evening with the news that he was coming to the reunion, he could start making arrangements. First on his list was contacting Debbie’s biological mother. Suddenly, elation made way for a surge of anxiety. How would her mother react? ‘Well, mate, there’s no turning back now,’ he said to himself as he poured himself a cup of nice strong tea and walked over to his desk.
Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on saturday 7 april 2018
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Part 3 in the Helena Series
“Wasn’t that wonderful?” Helena asked, referring to the flash of light across the sky they had just witnessed.
“Yes,” Marlon answered with a nod, “and I reckon the light in the bayou will be so too. Shall we carry on walking?”
“Yeah, let’s.”
The two eleven-year-olds turned to the dirt track and headed towards the bayou.
Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on saturday 24 march 2018
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Episode 19
Remembering this part of the story hit Giuseppe hard. Once again, he recognized the allegory that the story formed with his own real-life love story. As tears streamed down his face, he swallowed to clear the lump in his throat and continued to recollect Bee’s story.
Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on wednesday 7 march 2018
A story on International Women’s Day 2018 about the power of the feminine
As long as Luna could remember, her mother had been consumed by grief. She knew what caused this, even though her mother never talked about it. Two years ago, when Luna was barely three years old, her father had returned from the civil war. Vividly, she remembered the men of her village in the mountains bringing him home safely. She also remembered her mother screeching when she saw how the regime’s cruelty had traumatized her husband.
Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on friday 12 january 2018
Click here to read the prelude to this story!
Part 2 in the Helena Series
Still smiling, Helena walked over to the tiny oak sapling and knelt down beside it.
“Grandma,” she said again, only this time a little louder, “I’m so glad you’re still here.”
At the same moment, a breeze gently stroked her dark brown locks. To Helena it felt as if Grandma was talking to her by way of the wind. She smiled even more and took pleasure in the warm, glowing sensation she felt in her heart. Then, she stood up and walked slowly to the big oak that shaded the little oak from the heat of the afternoon sun.
