Tag: Short Story
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I Come Bearing Gifts
Every day, Saai woke up at 5:30 a.m. to pray. He brushed his teeth, showered, combed his hair and beard, wore his olive-green robes, shined his metal legs, and headed to his corner of the bedroom where he connected. Every day, he sat on his modest praying chair, hands on his knees, feeling the smooth…
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The Hakawati That Saved My Life
A few months ago, on another mundane Saturday, I had a dream I used to have as a child – a decapitated woman sat in a tub of her own blood, her head beside her on the white tiles, gnawing at an apple. That morning, as I prepared my usual black coffee, I imagined myself…