I first encountered Steph Campisi’s writing while using it to fill potholes during my brief career as a stopgap during the early fifties. Steph understandably requested that I stop, and it’s fortunate for us both that we did, for that very night we encounterd a friendly bear who nursed us back to health and shared with us the precious secret of hibernation.
I think you can trace the events of those tumultuous years in the themes of Steph’s story for us:
A Pox on All Your Houses: a tale of Singh and Daughter
Stephanie Campisi
Ravi Singh was a small, meticulous man who dressed only in colours that could be found in nature and drank tea that was properly steeped. He owned two side-by-side terraced houses, and each was painted in colours the inverse of the other. His daughter, Priyanka, had moved into the second house, declaring she needed space and independence. Of course, living next door to her parents was exactly the sort of independence Ravi thought Priyanka needed, so he was rather pleased with the arrangement, truth be told. (more…)
