murmurs: a 100-word story

Four houses inside a red gate - dwarfed by the acacia tree beside it. Murmurs upon murmur, they wait like masked bees waiting for the sting of the queen. "So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm."Not in the 21st century when a hollowed neck meant for a lover's head can be… Continue reading murmurs: a 100-word story

cloud’s sunburn

Three chili plants remaining, I once thought they would succumb after I almost drowned them with neem oil because of pesky ants. Together in a pot, amidst many stormy nights, it's always a surprise when I see them breathing in silent delight. Yes, with wrinkled leaves, but at least, still alive.But these clouds are clearly… Continue reading cloud’s sunburn

where are the planes

after Alice Walker and Zora Neale Hurston Blue. Perhaps baby blue. The shade you gift a baby boy in a shower that does not involve a drop of water. But I'm talking about the July sky, here, in my corner of earth, is rarely blue. Mostly grey. The difference was the absence of flying tins.… Continue reading where are the planes

tasting silence: a 100-word story

Silence has always tasted sweet since I was a young boy. I find bliss in building a world of my own, alone. Now, with only the whirring of her ventilator, my tongue is filled with bitter gourd juice, swimming through the boulder inside my throat. Her hands, I've held since she was 24, feel cold… Continue reading tasting silence: a 100-word story

dawning dreams: a 100-word story

It starts with the usual scene. The hibiscus bush void of bloom, filled with sharp twigs like fangs of the past, looking at him from his bedroom window. The door less-an-inch open like a defeated sigh. The bedsheet crumpled, free of human warmth. The duplicate cold key, slouched. The screech of tires against the gravel… Continue reading dawning dreams: a 100-word story

A Look Back to Move Forward

It's almost two in the morning, I am supposed to be sleeping, probably paddling through the river of dreams this night has to offer. My eyes are sleepy, my body at less than 5% of mortal battery, still I get up, still I write. The soul would never let this wee hours --- when the… Continue reading A Look Back to Move Forward

Paired or Not

We are made with working pairs. Your right hand got your left. Your left ear got your right. Your right eye got your left. Your left lung got your right. We work with built-in pairs. A scissor will never be a scissor, it should be scissors even when added with the phrase "a pair". Trousers… Continue reading Paired or Not

Between My Bleeding Lines’ Readers: Mah Lima

Note to Self There’s no point in looking outside for things you should have inside. It will only bring you harm. Don’t put your happiness in a stranger’s hand. No matter how long you’ve been with someone, unless you’re both open to it, you never really know them. And even when they are, you still… Continue reading Between My Bleeding Lines’ Readers: Mah Lima

Sorry, Storm

My clear window pane is tainted with gem-like trickles of rain. The sky is angry. So black. So dark. Its sharp and fast lightning brings along growling screams of thunder.These are the moments I hate the most. With rain comes my demon named depression. The feeling that even the mighty one loathes my existence and He… Continue reading Sorry, Storm

Before You

One is a whole number. I can exist on my own. I can cook for myself. I can breathe for myself. I can speak for myself. I can take care of myself. It’s not as if I was born with someone to do those things for me. I was born alone. I have no problem dying… Continue reading Before You