The Washing Machine

Socrates wore his Saturday best on the day the washing machine was delivered. I know this because he was still wearing it when he arrived at our house nearly eight hours later, banging on the door with enough energy to wake the dead. ‘Hello there,’ my father said, as though the sight of a very […]

Into the Caves

The bioluminescence was bright that night. It must have been a full moon because I remember the streets glowing and the waves crackling with peaks of green and yellow and cream as they hit the beach. It always felt like the ocean was lit with a cold fire on nights like that and one of […]

A Game of Patience

Continued from ‘From the Deep.’ Over dinner that night (fish fried in olive oil with a little lemon, olives, salad), my father queried me about my trip out of the harbor with Giorgos. ‘What does he do all day,’ my father asked. ‘He thinks like the octopus,’ I explained. My father sat thoughtfully for a […]

From the Deep

Read the first part of this story, ‘Giorgos and the Octopus,’ if you feel so inclined. The story of Giorgos became common fodder in the kafenia. As people softly clicked their backgammon tiles to and fro and drank ouzo and cried ‘ai gamisou‘ at each other in a good natured way and snacked on mezze, […]

Giorgos and the Octopus

Giorgos had a brightly coloured and dangerously dilapidated boat which he took out every morning with the rest of the fishermen. His boat was always the easiest to spot because at some point the entire interior had been painted a livid and rather shocking lime green which caused the boat to glow almost radioactively on […]