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Dear Dirk,
I am sorry but I have terrible news to report. My sister Marleen is missing. At first we did not know where she was.

Hi dad! Dad?
Hello I was just eating.
That’s late, were you on duty?
No, I ate my soup at eight and then I wait until I’m hungry again. Blood […]

Shhh, Adriaan is asleep as I write this. He must not wake up before six o’clock, because he has to rest for the trip. How it came to be that he is […]

Come to the root of the root of your Self. Molded from clay, but also formed from dust of certainty, guardian of the treasure of holy light.

An unheeded reminder from the bank falls into my hands, in unopened envelope, just when opening the book on the drunken poets of Allah.