Tina Manoussakis
Stories (2/0)
Hamlet
Act 1, Scene 1. I will not claim that I am a rational animal; I am not. Nor are you, nor your lovers, nor Albert Einstein. A long excavation of the subconscious has uncovered damaged cogs in a faulty machine: the curtain has lifted, and it may be bad news. Still, it is necessary to view yourself as capable of making your own decisions most of the time. I feel I am capable as I move through the day, stewing in that inner commentary which ushers each action to its end. Decision-making seems natural and true in the midst of the moment.
By Tina Manoussakis2 years ago in Confessions
Marlborough Sounds, New Zealand 1960s
The bones were still clad in their Sunday best, and on the wrist, a metallic watch still shone ash-grey under a layer of mud. The thunder of the hunting dogs sounded through the pines, breaking the soft silence of the mountain. The old man had known it was time to die. He walked into the forest of Billy Bone’s valley until he found a clearing in which to take his final sleep.
By Tina Manoussakis2 years ago in Fiction