Category: David Williams

I am what every homeland-mother desires.

Or maybe that’s just how it seemed to me.

That is, until the day our overheated and overcrowded planet hastens things along.

No way, we’re not disqualified, the race is still on, the game still in play…

She might say, ‘Thank you, Indiana Jones,’ or ‘Thank you, Irina Spalko,’ but that really doesn’t matter.

They spirit away Mike’s collection and recycle it for a little small change.

The sound of the metal coins hitting the ground echoes like short sharp bursts of laughter that chill me to the bone.

‘No thanks,’ says the frog, ‘for the time being I would rather stay a frog.’

I don’t have it: I drink my milk regularly.

What’s more, it seems that it’s still ‘warm.’