I can hear the closing of the day. There's an abundance of memoirs - fallen words inside my coffee cup, unlit, unscented candles, the red postbox at the end of the street, and knots in my hair, golden and burnt each with a story to relay. The windows are closed, one by one, in steady... Continue Reading →
Those three words are said too much…
There have been times when those three words couldn't hold up on their own. They had to be supplemented with promises of transcendence from this life to the next. They had to be said every night like a flossing ritual. They had to be reminded of by using them as a salve after a bruise... Continue Reading →
The Gaze
With his smile, he re-arranged everything that was once lost, forgotten and abandoned inside me. I just didn't notice it. I was looking deep into his eyes.
I Want to Read
Suddenly the words have drained their colours which have run down and smeared my fingertips, and stained my nails causing me to recoil every time I bite them in the anxiety of how I have lost the most precious of gifts - words. For I want to read a book, in the dead of the... Continue Reading →
How Winning is Done
*Although the incidents of this story are fictional, the premise is from real life.* It was a humid day, and she wiped the sweat on his forehead with a white and blue napkin. The trains stood tired and stared at each other unable to make basic conversation. She got into one of them and he gave... Continue Reading →
Thanksgiving
There is something heart-warming about a letter in the mail. No, not those kinds that deflect their cowardice on you for some sort of self-importance. (Yes, you. I’m talking to you. You’re on my blog. Happy much?) Going back to the part about the letter in the mail. I use email quite a bit, and... Continue Reading →
Transgression
In an ideal world, I would have moved cities, bought myself a small apartment and a cane basket to lower down the window, should I need groceries or fresh bread. I would take apart all connections, only to make my old parents that one phone call every first of the moon, to say that I... Continue Reading →
Heart in a Box
They didn't say anything about wrapping love and keeping it aside. Or if they did, she must have missed the memo. Because all she had ever known was to squander her affections on people who crossed her lives, and left souvenirs behind. She didn't collect them, of course, but they were there, reminders of what she had given away, and... Continue Reading →
Since When
...has it become so difficult to tell people that you love them?
amarllyis 