Where does one life end and another begin? In the whirlwind of a sandstorm… how do you see the beloved’s face? The beloved. A mirage. …
Read Full Story9-11
Two years. Two years, today. It’s nearly one in the morning, and the day gone by is already a blur. I seem to be thinking …
Read Full StoryDesert Stories
I don’t remember what day it was. All I know is it was hot. Like every other day this month has been. Hot. Very hot. …
Read Full Story(Of Spectres): In Love in London
“The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts.” – Italo Calvino Temporally, six months have passed. …
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