The Road to Cemetery (Part 2)

I don’t know, what it was about the big black being, because I suddenly felt an obsessive need to see my Mother – even if it meant for me to be seeing the scorn on her face that she held for me – the scorn that I have always wanted to refute, and get away…

The Road To Cemetery (Part 1)

Early on, She had suggested that I never get emotionally entangled with any of the eyes that I come across, on the way, because it could land me in deep trouble. I was the kind who could not risk being utterly involved – especially when it came to men. Men, there have been all kinds…

Depleting Blackness

I looked at my soaked hands at once. It wasn’t rainwater that caused them to be like that, although the tin slate above my head was chattering fearfully and the wind went berserk outside, crying and howling like a woman abandoned by her man. There was a tiny hole on the tin wall through which…