Stories

Holiday Markets of Old Town Prague

Through the cold snow of Prague before Christmas, we walk from markets in Staroměstské náměstí to Mala Strana smelling the bread, fried meat and sweets of Czech delicacies. We tread the slippery cobbled streets carefully dodging tourists watching the astronomical clock in Old Town square with decorated trees and watercolor prints of the Charles bridge. The Christmas markets, selling trinkets that are not junk made in China, like in Napoli, but hand crafted amber jewelry from Poland. They have woven…

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A place of lively comfort

The train whistle is familiar but muted as we glide along the tracks in New England from Penn Station in New York to my family home in Vermont. I go for the last time to visit the house I grew up in. My parents are thinking of selling it and I am headed out of the country, so I want to see the walls that kept childhood memories intact for all my return visits my whole adult life, one last…

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Train from Amsterdam to Prague

Oisín dropped me off at the station, with plenty of time to buy tickets and get on the train.  After driving through Germany all day, I was glad to be getting home to Prague in a few more hours before work tomorrow. I was only a little concerned because I had to change trains in Dresden Central station, but no big deal, nine minutes should be enough.  I remembered, from arriving there on Friday, it would only be 1 stop…

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human

I am a man My heart is made of stone It is hard and heavy Forged of many centuries Earthen soil Weighs heavy upon it Outer shell hides what lies within Strength of fire is at its core Embers burning deep Energy lies dormant, asleep   I am a woman My heart is made of ice It is cold It is frigid It may shimmer, but it will shatter If you play it carelessly Surely you will break it And…

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A night at Duende

Sidewalk musicians play the blues on the Charles Bridge while the blazing embers of the summer sun begin to fade behind Prague Castle.  Rounded cobblestones meet the perpendicular angles of the platform mules I balance in with sharp abrasive taps.  I tighten my core as I weave through ambling crowds of tourists gawking at the saints perched on the thousand year old passageway, training for competition with the beautiful Slovakian princesses and Italian models that now glide past me, smoothly…

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