The Vanishing Sky
The bus stopped in the middle of nowhere. The doors wheezed open, spilling cold air inside. Vani gripped Vinita’s shawl tighter. She had been warm, curled against her mother’s side, but now the wind nipped at her nose.
The bus stopped in the middle of nowhere. The doors wheezed open, spilling cold air inside. Vani gripped Vinita’s shawl tighter. She had been warm, curled against her mother’s side, but now the wind nipped at her nose.
Every good dish starts with sautéed onions,” my mother used to say. It was a maxim she followed in her home kitchen and it seemed to be true…
Tommy sniffs me at the door, the scruffy dog more polite than enthusiastic. One of his jobs is door monitor. He races back to the man lying in bed in an adjacent room.
The morning dew soaked through the pants on Hans’ suit. He was on his knees, both hands clasped in front of him, as if paying homage to a shrine.
Out of breath after climbing three flights of stairs to her new apartment, she muscled her way in the door and set down her heavy shopping bags. The apartment was completely empty aside from a few stacks of boxes against the living room wall.
My niece was a glitter girl, perpetually covered in multi-coloured gems from glue guns and magic markers.
A homeless Deer takes shelter at the ramshackle tent near the bottom of the field. I think she is homeless, or at least tribeless.
“Like breadcrumbs, the trail of now ubiquitous security camera footage, led the authorities back to The Castle.”
“Did you know that if a starfish loses one if it’s legs, it can just grow a new one? It’s called regeneration.”