By the side of Lake Lanao strips of dodol hang by a thread wrapped in cellophane and corn husks like body bags strewn together loosely unlike the …
Read Full StorySmog: Working through Heartbreak in Beijing
The grieving never stops. That much I can tell you. With certainty. It hits you when you see their name… on an old email, a …
Read Full StoryAt Majeed’s: Art, Truth, & War in Baghdad
The afternoon was overcast. The way most December afternoons are in Baghdad. A soft mud-yellow breeze blowing against a beige sky. The brown date palms …
Read Full StoryThe Sound of Pain
The sound of pain is universal. You do not need to understand the language of the words when the wailing the tone the texture of …
Read Full StorySnowflakes
“Into the clockwork universe the quantum child. Why doesn’t every mother believe her child can change the world? The child can. This is the joke. …
Read Full StorySandstorm
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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