Emmy’s Blog

The Portrait Of A Landscape

This is a portrait without an easel, a painting without a canvas, floating freely in the seat of memory, unfettered by the constraints of reality. It is emblazoned in my mind, a haunting creation of an artist’s craving. It sits in the sea of my consciousness, this portrait of a desolate scene. It

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The Boy Had Changed

There were tears in his eyes, he realized that now. He must have been crying after he heard the screams of the girl from the other side of the forest. He couldn’t have saved her. There was no way to do that. He didn’t even know who she was, but

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NO REDEMPTION IN HELL

Survival, they say, is the first impulse, the first faculty in this side of hell. This is the picture of a heavily lit labour room, of a boy with moist as his first clothing, of a boy who refused to cry at birth. The watch word: “Survival is the first

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Maurice

Maurice   I’d always loved toy dogs. Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted one. But dad would hear nothing of it. Mum hated dogs and that was it. I mean, what harm could they do? They were just tiny creatures needing love and they also kept company.   Take for example the Pomeranian. Its

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