by Peter Volkofsky | Author & Life Coach | Nov 29, 2018 | Close to Home
The air is thick and heavy. Rain threatens. Our neighbourhood is almost silent, except for one loud out-in-the-street voice: irritating, as usual. Boom! I know what a heavy calibre rifle sounds like and that was one. The street voice has stopped. It begins to rain and... by Peter Volkofsky | Author & Life Coach | Nov 14, 2015 | Close to Home
A birthday invitation to my aunt’s 80th has been lying around on my desk for a while now. I’m sure it’s here somewhere. I push a hand underneath the pile and tip it all upside down. There it is! A lovely sheet of pale, silken paper in a stylish font. I... by Peter Volkofsky | Author & Life Coach | May 12, 2015 | Close to Home
Watched The Gambler1 the other day. It’s an act of treason beyond all reason. He’s not a gambler he’s a suicide looking for a way. So he rolls the dice, ‘All on black’ he says. ‘All.’ He’s a funeral, a burial waiting to... by Peter Volkofsky | Author & Life Coach | Dec 8, 2014 | Close to Home
Last night my wife called us all to the back door in her ‘look what I’ve found’ tone of voice. We always put down whatever we’re doing when we hear her calling like that. And sure enough there was a treasure awaiting us. This one was just above... by Peter Volkofsky | Author & Life Coach | Oct 7, 2014 | Close to Home
‘No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid: the same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing … At other time it feels like being mildly drunk, or... by Peter Volkofsky | Author & Life Coach | May 4, 2014 | Close to Home
It’s been a wet night and I walk out onto our front porch to enjoy the dripping-freshness of early- morning. Between the bottlebrush and the other trees in our yard, flimsy little showers of rain float down at random and I wait and think and pray about the...
