IRASHA
Sonji Irasha
THE VISITORS
THE VISITORS
I remember when the visitors came.
"Do you remember Charles Martin?" They asked.
"Martin Charles? I knew him," I said.
My mouth was dry. It tasted like penicillin or some other medical candy, but my memory was as good as the day I'd last seen him.
It was a Sunday morning: early dawn. He just stepped out of the club. His eyelids flickered a lot when the sunlight hit them and I joked about it. I told him what a pushover he looked like batting his lashes like that, but he didn't get it. Imagine? One night in a club and Martin couldn't hold up come morning. What a loser.
Sonji Irasha
FRIENDS
FRIENDS
Pelican Island - December 5th 1995 - 7:15pm
She was late. Yannick sat alone at the table for two, dismayed that she hadn’t even called. It wasn't like her, but she hadn't quite been herself this past week. To perk things up, he suggested they dine where they first met, but she seemed aloof. Perhaps it was a bad idea. This place held too many bittersweet memories for them.
A balmy breeze from the trade winds rolled off the beach and wafted through the rustic Coconut Shell Restaurant and Bar. It, along with the dimmed lights and soft reggae music, seduced patrons into keeping their conversations at a low murmur.
WAKE
by
Sonji Spencer
WAKE
WAKE is a completed feature screenplay set in the early 1900s on a fictitious Caribbean island.
Sonji Irasha
ESTELLA
ESTELLA
West Indies 1910 - Post Emancipation
A gust of wind blew through the trail of acacia trees flanking the narrow dirt road. It stirred their thorny canopies and swirled through the lattices of slim branches. Tiny dark green leaves shimmied on tendril like stems, while yellowed ones sprinkled to the ground. There they fell upon even older leaves that were already bronzed to a crisp. Together, they created a speckled trail of mulch that ran along the edges of both sides of the path.
When Estella's bare foot brushed through, it disrupted the leafy trail to her right, unearthing the decay beneath the flat bed.
