The swirling smokes of caracas wishes rising upward through the shrivelled skies of blue time, which chokes, anticipate and even prevade the localities of scanty living. A mangosteen fruit ripening in this penury is a magician’s miracle of square meals a day.
FICTION| 533 WORDS
Since, childhood I have always been afraid of the silence. That silence which hangs between the words, silence that hangs between the sadness and the silence that hangs between the bitterness. It was those moments, I have feared of finding the ‘real me’ in myself than the person I have always thought myself to be.Continue reading “Probabilities Away”