A collection of fourteen stories, Nelycinda & other stories, presents a woman's perspective of society thriving on trade and business. Lyrical and poignant, these stories take us to a world infested with the aroma of spices. The world was always opaque and something about the nearness of the sea made it more so. Susa began her day with the smallness of things, sea sand, which appeared as dull as the day, and the colours in the translucent shells, each catching the first light of the morning. How curious that the sand and salt and the ambitions of the sea creatures could create these colours. She walked to the seaside, wishing that the fisher people were about, but they had dived for pearls earlier than was usual that morning because of the impending storm. A great silence filled the ocean that brought to her the occasional screech of birds wheeling, and the whorls of the sea shells which produced their own sounds. Prison was a place which enclosed one and brought the world much closer by what one could imagine. It was where silence was the only companion, where the routines of the day allowed one to build a small world based entirely on ones thoughts. It was the shelter of the moment to work with the grandeur of the unseen. Imprisoned by the minutes, and allowed to fly when the tasks were completed. She looked at the beach, for the inlets were full of birds and moss and climbing purple flowers, and that was where she would go. To the river that, in its sureness of the life of the people, would bring her conversations and the calm of everyday tasks.
