http://www.author-me.com Check this feed periodically to review new manuscripts posted on Author-me.com. Sat, 13 Mar 2010 18:41:56 GMT ListGarden Program 1.3.1 http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://author-me.com/fict10/friendsfromkigale.html It all started with a yellow immigration card with print <br>so small that anyone over forty required magnifying glasses to read it; more so if said over forty person had stayed awake all night alternating between a very dry martini and a soda, rather than go to bed only to wake up again to check in at 3 a.m. in the morning. Sat, 13 Mar 2010 18:41:52 GMT http://www.author-me.com/fict10/rational6.html The Black BMW had been parked in the left turn lane of the intersection for a good five minutes when David realized where he was. He hadn’t moved since he spoke to his wife. An entire generation of nightmares had passed since then. Had it been days? A look at the clock and he realized it had been only five minutes. Impossible. He had already been to the funeral with an empty casket. He had seen his wife’s aging parents in the hospital dying from the shock. The little kid’s bedroom had dust in it where she hadn’t been playing, and her computer keyboard looked like an antique. The other kids were out of college, still being kind to the crippled parents who had never recovered. Five minutes? Sat, 13 Mar 2010 18:40:36 GMT http://www.author-me.com/fict10/rational5.html As far as David knew, Artie was the world’s ultimate computer geek. When he used to work, he never had fewer than six monitors on his desk at any time. Most times there were more than ten, and who knows what they were connected to. As he rapped out music on the three or four keyboards anyone could see, the computer processors would hum generating so much heat they had to move him to his own air conditioned area with fans blowing cold air up through the floor. And those machines were just the connection boxes to the massive mainframe systems that ran the crazy programs he worked on night and day. Artie was a computer geek of the most serious kind. Sat, 13 Mar 2010 18:39:50 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/parallel8.html It was almost dark by the time we got back to the apartment and we only had around three hours before we would have to go out again to make our pre samba rendezvous with Liam. I was quite tired after a day’s verbal jousting with Amaya, but was conscious of the need to arrange her flight to Columbia, and sort out something for dinner. I had been quite successful in pushing Katrina out of my thoughts, mainly because Amaya had filled them, but it was one more problem nagging at me from the back of my mind. Sat, 13 Mar 2010 18:37:43 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/maria.html Maria was in a reflective mood as she cooked Sadza (stiff porridge) for her husband, as she thought about recording her memories. She had just read a story in The Guardian newspaper about ox-pulled ambulances in many parts of rural Zimbabwe. A pathetic picture in the story depicted one such an ambulance. <br> <br>Her heart goes out to her fellow country men and women who have to face grinding poverty on a daily basis. “Oho, what a pity”, Maria thought as she considers how lucky she was to have escaped poverty in her own country by coming to the United Kingdom (UK). Sat, 06 Mar 2010 14:20:06 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/parallel7.html Once we had finished the pies it was time to wander round the shops. I had intended to pick up a couple of things for my apartment, which was still looking a little sparse even though I had been living there almost a year. I had all the chairs, tables and beds I needed, but it still lacked something. It was all a bit new, clean and rather clinical. Even I r Sat, 06 Mar 2010 14:18:54 GMT http://author-me.com/fict02/Ken/blackeagle/beg503.shtml 'What's with Henry? He's super quiet lately.' Louis asked his sister several days later. 'Seems to be spending a lot of time moping around with his lizards and not much else and I notice he's struggling to finish evening meals. Just stuffing it in and not asking for seconds. Love? He hasn't gone gooey on that girl from the pie-fight has he?' <br> <br>'I don't know, and now I know that you don't know either.' Priscilla answered, rolling her rubbish bin alongside Louis who was propelling the re-cycle bin out to the front nature strip. Sat, 06 Mar 2010 14:17:15 GMT http://author-me.com/fict02/Ken/blackeagle/beg502.shtml 'Alright Henry! Why are you sneaking around my bedroom at two o'clock in the morning, and this better be good!' Priscilla snapped, her torch trained on her brother. <br> <br>'Sis I... Sis!...' Henry's eyes were seeping tears, big tears that rolled down his pale cheeks and immediately Priscilla had the motherly urge to clasp him to her and ward off whatever was troubling him. <br> <br>'What is it Henry? Bad dream? Sleep-walking? Are you still in pain from your spleen? Look, Harry's here with us. He wants to know what's wrong, don't you Harry?' Sun, 28 Feb 2010 18:50:11 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/witness.html You could feel the pressure, or at least, the short and stout man clad in a dark blue safari suit standing in the witness box, could feel the pressure in the packed court house. Although it was cold, no amount of mopping with his handkerchief could eliminate the beads of sweat that were breaking on his clean shaven face like dew. To him, the deadly silence in the court was like a lull before a devastating storm. <br> <br>Like a trapped animal, he miserably watched the towering figure of the prosecuting lawyer menacingly rise from the squeaky chair. Examination-in-chief had begun. Sun, 28 Feb 2010 18:47:29 GMT http://author-me.com/nonfiction/psychosocial.html There have been critics over Western psychosocial interventions in conflict areas. Most experts intervening to the fields are Western, working in different countries all over the world: Africa, Asia, and Southern America mainly. They face a big challenge related to the culture and customs, and they are not familiar with local traditions at all. Sometimes their work gets undermined by the lack of local context knowledge, which would ease their incomparable efforts to save lives for a better world. Sun, 28 Feb 2010 18:46:43 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/journey.html Akinyi rocked baby Otis gently on her laps, praying inwardly that he would fall asleep. Her patience was slowly running out and the sound of Baby Otis laughing playfully was beginning to irritate her. It was obvious that he was not going to sleep soon. She patted his back gently in rhythm to the lullaby that she was singing. It was a slow song and it sounded more like a dirge than a lullaby. Sun, 28 Feb 2010 18:45:36 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/implements.html The implements of war hung on two rusty nails – hammered, one next to another, onto the left side of a weathered and beaten cupboard, within an arm’s reach of father’s big chair. <br> <br>The brown leather belt was thick and heavy…but frayed from constant use. Next to it hang a long, sleek, rubber whip; black as night. Sun, 28 Feb 2010 18:44:41 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/parallel6.html By the time we left the bar it was cloudy and threatening to rain. I had learnt not to ignore threats in Brazil, even from the weather, so we decided to go back to the apartment, rather than walk along the beach. My happiness at the football result was overshadowed by my concern at the dinner tomorrow. It was going to be a nightmare. Not only was I going to see Katrina again – uninvited by her, but she would be there with her husband and I would be there with Amaya! Sun, 28 Feb 2010 18:44:01 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/rational4.html His body screaming, David woke from this latest fantasy. Real screaming. It was Ashley. Out front. Real screams. He bolted from the chair. Through the deteriorating fence gate. There was no Ashley. Ashley’s older sister Callie was now screaming. When she was upset, she was really upset. Her face contorted into something really strange yet pitiful. She had a way of constricting every muscle in her beautiful face, till you could barely see her eyes, and all of her teeth would stick out of quivering lips almost like a bear growling, while tears burst from her eyes and poured down her cheeks through the corner of her mouth and ran right off her chin. Sun, 28 Feb 2010 18:39:43 GMT http://author-me.com/nonfiction/mostbiased.html The foremost of the factors that led to the genocide would be the imbalance in terms of power and lack of enough resources for the two major ethnic groups: Hutus vs. Tutsis. Regardless the origin and reasons of Hutu and Tutsi ethnic label, the fact that there was imbalance between Tutsi elites vs. Hutus before 1959, it was clear that without any change there was conflict and related violence escalation on the horizon in one way or another. Sun, 07 Feb 2010 03:26:33 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/rational1.html Red flashes of light ate through the darkness as a line of sparks started faintly in the distance, quickly winding closer, snaking up the roadway with increasing anger turning into the scream of a thousand red tail lights yelling in mother’s voice….. Stop! Sun, 07 Feb 2010 03:22:16 GMT http://author-me.com/nonfiction/visitor.html Immediately after my final year in campus, I made up my mind not to face the hard sun of shags. As I was earlier advised by the lots in the prime, seeking refuge at home especially in the upcountry was the most awful attempt a university graduate can commit. The ivory tower is a home of its own.... Comradeship is very much acclaimed internally and in the external bases of the campus. It is in their walk, talk, and also in the chew and the clad that acts as evidences. In addition, you will have to meet the extreme limits of researchers with all sorts of degrees and as usual, all are in grey hair or no hair on their head. It is a place that counts to have the ‘highest number of intellectuals per square meter’. Sun, 07 Feb 2010 03:20:56 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/buspassengers.html For many, it portends a premonition of doom especially if you had an incorrigible boss you had to hide from, a spouse whose trust you had betrayed or someone you could not stop lying to. After the excitement of the night before, the deep dreamless sleep, it was mortifying to wake up on a work day to the sound of rain drops hammering away on zinc roofs, the characteristic sound like the quick march of a hundred tin soldiers. Sun, 07 Feb 2010 03:19:41 GMT http://author-me.com/fict10/parallel4.html “Come on let’s hurry up.” I said as I grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the elevator. She hurried along behind me into the street as I flagged down a taxi. One of the few benefits of living on such a busy street in Rio is that there is always a constant supply of empty taxis passing by. We jumped in the back of the first one to stop and I told the taxi driver where to go, and which route to take. Sun, 07 Feb 2010 03:18:33 GMT http://author-me.com/nonfiction/africaswilled.html The global food crisis of 2007/2008 that triggered riots from Cape to Cairo and from Senegal to Haiti made governments and their agriculturally-engaged companies get on the saddle and gallop – with their thinking caps on. Export tariffs were slapped on staple food crops to minimise how much could be sold outside their countries. In my book – Darkest Europe and Africa’s Nightmare: A Critical Observation of Neighbouring Continents, I mentioned, rather apocalyptically, that if we Africans don’t take care then the outside world will turn our continent into “a timber plantation.” This is now happening, but on a worst-case scenario. Mon, 01 Feb 2010 02:40:16 GMT