‘So, your old man reckons I should give you a go.’ I’d been shown into Charlie Knowles’ office on the 17th floor. He stood with his back to me, yelling into the phone and jabbing two stubby fingers at the twin TNT buildings on the western Sydney horizon. His shirt was damp with sweat despite the air conditioning, and the outline of two sagging straps of flesh gave the appearance of wearing a day-bag in reverse. ‘Yeah, well, you do that.’ He mashed the receiver and phone together and spun around. On seeing me, he blinked. He glanced at his computer screen. ‘Ah. Darlene.’ He threw his bulk into his chair. His eyes travelled over my cleavage and eventually, up to my face. It was then that he mentioned his conversation with Dad. ‘What makes you want to be a journalist? Pretty tough gig, y’know.’ He swung back in the…
The windswept landscape carpeted with dull yellow prairie grass seemed to undulate with the rise and fall of gently rolling hills. Hazy, late September…
Author: Malcolm Margolin. Berkley, CA: Heyday Books. Copyright 2021. $28.00 If you want a jolt to any complacency and smugness that you may have…
With the stroke of a pen, off they can send your sons and your daughters, the little green men. In WWI the little green…
The day after the bombing, I got a call from Rahman whom I hadn’t seen or heard from in years. He had been a…
In the observatory, named after Veer Savarkar, all the scientists were eagerly waiting to receive confirmatory signals. And they did. The existence of the…
There are a lot more press briefings featuring sign language. Many appear to be more animated than I ever recall or at least ever…
Intro The mountains around are dry with the scorching summer sun, however, today is a mesmerizing April evening in this little rustic town on…
Few moments back it was raining for a while. The sun was no more bright, a gentle cool breeze was blowing. The rain had…