Short Story

Lyrics taken from Henry Moodie’s Drunk Text. Our first words were exchanged at a philosophy lecture, where he sat in…

The way she speaks is frantic. “Can’t you see the possibilities? I’m telling you,” her steps echo out in the…

Eyes were always the hardest to face. Crowds of people, strangers, passed me as I waded through their masses, keeping…

The religious season began with pilgrims rushing up the slant of the hill with necklaces of flowers and jingling bangles;…

Being a proud anti-locker student, I am forever juggling all my textbooks, exercise books, and lunch in my bag –…

Aside from the fact that you were raised in a landlocked country—and the fact that the only body of water…

Georgie has always been there for me. Waiting, sitting, lying down. He doesn’t talk much, but it’s a good kind…

She finds him on the edge of the cliff.   “I thought you quit.” She says, through a damp haze…