Charmaine Bonnefille
Bio
Poet, writer, infant terrible. Awash with colour. Often in trouble.
Stories (3/0)
The Road Trip
‘Have you got your GPS with you?’ my father’s tone rang sternly in my ears. ‘Yes, yes’. ‘I’ve taken it with me’. Not true, I thought to myself. But I didn’t need another pre-emptory lecture and he didn’t need to know I’d already looked it up online the night before. I’d already thought of the routes, planned which exit to take, given myself every opportunity to be emotionally available to my mother for the duration of the journey. She jumped into the passenger seat of my fading blue Hybrid vehicle, and I automatically glanced to the rear to see the child’s car seat notably empty.
By Charmaine Bonnefille3 years ago in Families
The Pen
The Pen ‘Is this a date?’ I thought to myself as I was driving up to the house, I felt finally uninhibited. All good. All perfectly normal social and internal conversations pre-date. Or non-date rather. Who really knows what this is? I thought to myself. It’ll be revealed. Yes, I’ve had a cruiser. I’m feeling liberal. Talking in my head. Yes. YaS! I am okay. I have stuff to say, I am entertaining. People like me. And other mantras to that effect.
By Charmaine Bonnefille3 years ago in Criminal