The word collided with her tongue and palate over and over till it bloated and morphed into an amoeboid, anomalous word, yet vaguely familiar. Millions of tiny minions in her limbic system, suddenly charged with an unknown strength, darted off to Archives to retrieve the phlox file from a dusty back shelf.
Present day Jallianwala Bagh with actual bullet marks Pic Courtesy – Dr. Graham Beards on Wikipedia One step, two steps, walk, walk, walk, I chanted to myself, coaxing my legs… Read more »
A short fiction in response to Yeah Write’s weekly fiction prompt – “He looked overworked at only half past noon.” Pic Credit – David Clare on Flickr It was a beautiful spring… Read more »
I looked at the brush in front of me. Did I really have to use it? Colors were calling out to me, begging to be experienced, to be felt. I… Read more »
Her last will is read. Some are suddenly richer than the others. Somber silence is now replaced by a scuffle between siblings. A lone shoe makes its way over the… Read more »