By: Adreyo Sen When I was a boy, my mother was the district magistrate of a tiny little corner of India. Magisterially disapproving of my tendency to disappear in my books and diaries, she’d take me with her on her week-long…
By: Rency Philip “Hand me another mug. I’m still thirsty.” A hesitant mug comes your way across the counter. The karaoke hours were fast approaching and you want to scoot before they start. As you gulped down what was the…
By: Adreyo Sen When Sinbad was small, I never thought she would grow to old age. She was a sweet little thing, gravely affectionate and so eager to please me in her quiet ways. Tractable in most things, she could be…
By: Adreyo Sen I never wondered why the only thing in my room was a grimy, stained bathtub, overflowing with black, sulphurous water. You see, I always assumed that it was there so that my brother could shove my face into…
By: Reese Scott At fourteen they went behind the barn and got married. She brought one of her dogs and he brought one of his friends. After the wedding they dropped acid, climbed flag poles, put fireworks inside peoples’ homes…
By: Sam Rapth The Coastal Road was dancing according to the music of the soaking sun. At the horizon, it was difficult to differentiate between the sky and the sea. The bluish sea glittered in the morning sun. This Road…
By: Ed Nichols My daddy’s name was Jefferson Henry Wilkes and the last time I saw him was in the insane asylum in Milledgeville, Georgia in 1958. He’d been there for four years when we visited him that last time. My…
By: Alan Swyer “On va te montrer un endroit extraordinaire,” my French girlfriend, Marie-Denise, said on an evening that, after many years, still feels like twenty minutes ago. We were young, carefree as I would ever be, and spending time…
By: Reese Scott At night she would lie in bed and try not to think of eating. It wasn’t that she was hungry at least not for food. She would try her best not to sleep because she was still…
By: Gaither Stewart “In order to understand the world, one must turn away from it on occasion.” (Albert Camus) Via Nazionale. The taxi battles its way up the steep avenue in the precarious right lane reserved for public vehicles. Blinding…