Willelmina Joseph-Loewenthal

With relief, Alphonse stepped out from the rather prickly porch into the yard; the mosquitos were troublesome today. Squadrons of them lay in wait to attack; their razor-sharp proboscises honed.   The sun was already well passed noon and he was late. The sea was rough so he’d walked along the mountain road. It had […]

All that was left were two walls and the foundations.  The upper floor had long been carried away by hurricanes.  The house had stood for decades, forgotten in the overgrown grass and aging fruit trees.  The foundations were of solid concrete and ornamented with dog shit from Maurice Etienne’s Dobermans.  The Etienne’s owned the lot