Hierarchy Of Nonsense

PART 1: SUNSETS   The orange hue of the setting Sun cascaded through the slits of thin, wispy clouds and drooped onto the verdant hills behind them, glimmering on the red-clad, rusty bridge. June sees the woman first in this Memory. Her hair was a series of gold deadlocks tied neatly into a bun, poised like a ball of yarn on top of her head, with two free strands gently swaying down her face. Her hands covered her wide smile; the blue on her nails complemented the green in h

It was a moonless night, which was suitable for the purposes of Carrot Vines. Not that Vines was up to some kind of mischief. In fact,...

It had started small and simple – just a couple of knocks, as soft as the whistle of sand seeping down an hourglass. It had started small...

After I have killed myself, I would like to be cremated and then have my ashes flushed down the toilet. It is a long story, and it began...

“Chai ya paani?” the clerk asked me, drumming his scrawny fingers along the rough, unpolished edges of the metal table separating us. He...

I must write a good story. No. I must write the perfect story. My words have to – they will – mean something, and I will do anything to...

Dear Diary, I read in a book once that if you cannot find the words to describe how you feel, you should make your own words. I have...

My wishes came true on Saturday night of 18th November. I was lying on a bed, watching the ceiling fan egregiously turn…so cyclic and so...