Category Archives: series 1

Web series ‘Sleeping rough’ – She does not belong there

I have been working hard on the web series ‘Sleeping rough’ today. Four new episodes are ready to be published. They are scheduled for publication starting from Monday.

In this second series (I aim it to be a series of nine episodes again) finally the main character gets a name. She finds herself more and more confronted with violence and drugs in this series. She will get involved despite her intentions. Continue reading


Sleeping rough – part 9: I moved again

I remember taking… I remember taking…, taking…, I… I remember taking refuge… I… I remember…

Fuck me!

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Sleeping rough – part 8: The Rape of Lindsey

I remember taking refuge in my hands as they took hold of the earth, the only other witness there. I clearly felt every blade of grass as it tore from its root. I felt the individual grains of the soil rub each other and slightly scratch the skin of my fingertips and push up underneath my nails. I felt a sharp pebble push hard between two knuckles from the inside of my left hand. The sensation of that grass and the somewhat damp soil and that one single and sharp pebble was so possessing. I hung on to it. I had to or I would die.

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Sleeping rough – part 7: Nettles and cow parsley

I remember taking refuge in the sounds of the city. The wheels of the tram whining in a sharp turn in the rails guiding them home. Sirens from a police car racing by. Hundreds of cars humming nearby and farther off, their wheels hissing on the pavement. Distant trains. It all became a one voice, not many. One beautiful voice. And it met with the voice of nature. The wind in the trees and in the tall grasses in a vacant lot. Birds claiming their territory. The Spring buzz of busy bees returning home after a productive day as the sun was setting now. A mosquito finding my face. The two voices met and sang the most beautiful city duet one ever heard. My heart settled in my chest as my hands sensually were stroking the brick wall I was sitting on. The bricks warm still from the sunlight it had been bathing in earlier.

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Sleeping rough – part 6: Curtain call

I remember taking refuge in the sound of the hot water crashing on to my skull. It ran to the front of my face, to the tip of my nose, to my lips, to my chin. I drank from it. I could feel a trickle going down at the back of my neck, down my spine. Then I stepped in all the way.

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Sleeping rough – part 5: The shower

I remember taking refuge in the calm dark that surrounded me. The familiar smell of books and old paper, dust, stale air, chalk, the ink for the duplicator, the filthy carpet, the smell of wooden floors and floor polish coming in with the draft from the narrow stairs. There is always a draft despite all the tall windows being shut and covered. There was the distant sound of traffic and other city noises. And none of it needed any light.

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Sleeping rough – part 4: Nothing happened

I remember taking refuge in the wind. The wind was soothing me, stroking my hair, the skin of my cheeks, my closed eyelids. It came drifting through the early morning landscape, touched me gently and then journeyed on. It took part of me with it and at the same time it shared part of itself as a gift staying with me. It helped me gather my mind, gather my wits.
Why was David’s hand on my arm? What was a next wise move?

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