Home stories

I’m home, I just got home. Home is where the heart is. The heart of the home is the hearth. The Vulcan heater looks at me, dormant and cold....

Quite some years back I had round my Sunday lunch table, a young lady just out from South Africa an older man with a very pronounced local accent with other guests....

Some friends and I decided to take a late night dip in the swimming pool. We were pretty drunk, and it was probably a little bit silly, but mum and d...

The night was clear, a light breeze was blowing outside, people were arriving home after work. Everyone went about their evening with no hint of the mystery that was about to unfold in my house....

I grew up in the 80’s, with bad fashion, funny music & parents that still smacked you when you were naughty....

As the police were raiding my neighbour’s garage recently, photographing and cataloguing the alleged stolen property, I found myself contemplating al...