Himiona Grace
Bio
film writer/director, musician and photographer. All photos, video are mine.
Aotearoa, New Zealand
Stories (16/0)
The Fall
If you have arrived here please start at Chapter 1 The Fall - Chapter 6 Pōuriuri/Into The Night Aaron wakes suddenly to a noise. He sits up quietly, listening. There is someone at the iron gate of the cell. He hears the bolt being loosened. He waits in the darkness. No one enters. Quietly he approaches the gate. It is slightly ajar. He listens. Is this a trap? After a moment he opens the gate and sneaks into the corridor. There is no one there either. Trap or not, Aaron is going take his chances. He slides along the wall at speed, feeling his way to the stairs. He stops and listens. Then moves up the stairs with stealth and precision. Ducking past the the windows he gets to the door, opens it. People are mingling, drinking, keeping warm by fires. He looks up to the sky. It is a full moon and there is no way he could sneak past the people. So he pulls his hood over his head, takes a breath then walks calmly across the courtyard. People don’t take any notice of him. Or so he thinks.
By Himiona Grace2 years ago in Fiction
The Fall
If you’ve arrived here please start at Chapter 1 Chapter 5 Aunt Nia The meeting house is the main room of an old community hall that was once pride of place in the township before The Fall. Now it is elaborately decorated with carvings and a moulded plastic taniwha above the doorway it is where Amaia, the council of elders and community members meet to discuss things of importance. Or not. The day to day business can seem anything but important.
By Himiona Grace2 years ago in Fiction
The Fall
If you’ve arrived here, please start at Chapter 1 Chapter 4 Te Hākari/The Feast Rātū leads the boy along the corridor. He is rough with him and angry that he can’t be rougher. But this kid is no pushover. He walks straight-backed, proud and showing little fear. This makes Rātū even more suspicious.
By Himiona Grace2 years ago in Fiction
The Fall
If you’ve arrived here please start at Chapter 1 Chapter 3 AMAIA The Valley, New Zealand. 209 years after The Fall. Amaia is sound asleep when Marcus burst through the door. He is well into his seventh decade but is spritely and fit. He rushes noisily across the spacious room to the windows.
By Himiona Grace2 years ago in Fiction
The Fall
Chapter One: Amaia Nightwalker Auckland, New Zealand. 63 years after The Fall. For three generations they lived in the dank, darkness of the underground car parks and subways. Three generations of malnutrition and struggle, where a simple injury led to untold suffering and chest infections were the crackling sound of death. It had been 63 years since The Fall, as it is known. That was a time the older generation tried their hardest to forget. But to the younger generation, the dark concrete dungeons was the only life they knew. Hunger, cold and disease took their toll on the people. The nightmares were like an infection too. Fear spread like an incurable virus attacking the minds, bodies and spirit of the community. Very few spoke of survival or the future. Hope was buried under the toxic rubble above ground. Hope was the cold, white ash that had no chance of reigniting.
By Himiona Grace2 years ago in Fiction
Secrets
One of the scariest things I did as a kid was to tell a tree my secret. I was eight or nine and spent a lot of time in the bush with my cousins. We camped there, sometimes under a makeshift shelter made of ferns and branches. Other times in half pitched, saggy tents and not much food. We didn’t care, if it was warm enough we slept under the stars. Being there was all the comfort we needed. It was our second home in a life that only we knew. We played war in the bush, our game spanning from Apple Tree Valley, through ‘the jungle’, a thick pocket of old trees to the Blue Gums, a clearing with four Eucalyptus which was bordered by Eel Creek. This separated the bush from our Uncle's land of tussock, grasses, and sheep. That was out of bounds. The objective was to make it to the blue gum trees without getting shot. Our guns were branches of various sizes. From handguns, sticks, to heavy branches, machine guns. I cheated many times hiding in the tussock on our Uncles land. But my cousins were older than me and I hardly ever won. They were always the heroes we loved from American movies. They were the cowboys I was always the enemy. But I didn’t mind. I’d rather be Tonto because I thought the Lone Ranger was weird and bit scary. We tied ropes so we could swing from tree to tree like Tarzan. Dug holes in the ground and covered them with leafy branches so the enemy could trip and fall into the trap. Like the Vietnam War movies. There were many rolled ankles and other injuries. We needed to do this as kids. It toughens you up for the real world.
By Himiona Grace3 years ago in Fiction
Lock up?
Freedom is. We don't have a pandemic here in Aotearoa (New Zealand). And our only lockdown (level four) was March last year. Auckland, our biggest city did go into level 3 a few times over the the year because of a couple of community outbreaks but they were only a hand full of people with COVID. And they were contained pretty quickly and efficiently. So although we have been really lucky as a country, it wasn't luck that spared us. It was following good advice that saved us from COVID spreading into the community.
By Himiona Grace3 years ago in Wander