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Fiction
The other side
Perhaps it was the way of the city for things to disappear quickly and without warning. Rust spread across the metal shutters of the closed down café. The sign that once read Books & Beans loomed overhead like a knocked-out set of teeth,...
Karen sings the future
Congratulations!
I’ve read through all the thank you cards attached to the boxes on the center table that morning and they all said the same thing. I finally found the courage to go through them, after a week or so of procrastination. Until now,...
A tale of two tickets
His chat:
Can we meet tonight? Seisha around 9?
Mine:
Sure. See you. ( Really, Seisha? Flavored-smoky Seisha. But why there? We never dated there?)
8:30: the now-faulty alarm clock reads on my table. Dresses to impress: haphazardly messed-up on my even messier bed, all Tahitian, all...
Dried fish
Here goes the Australian lady from the second floor again, standing at the door, towering over Mama and looking mad. “It bloody stinks in here. You and your smelly food! You’re not the only ones living in this building you know.” She screws...
The Final Bullet
Her father called it a six-gun. A revolver. It no longer boasted any paint or markings from its original make. Instead, the weapon bore on its surface the colorful history of local gang warfare. Its dry texture echoed the shape of polished bone....
Memories of the moving finger
I don’t know but I am almost running. My feet seem to drag me, unaware of the puddles scattered here and there like rivulets of mocha or chocolate. By the side of the road, I see an old man peddling ripe mangoes in...
