The smell of cinnamon in the room, a burnt candle on the bedside table, an empty bottle of Shiraz on the floor beside the ivory bed, and finally… a lady clutching onto a tattered book while tangled in her silken sheets with a tear running down her cheek.
death
Short Story-Master of Escapism (Stories from here and there)
I used to believe in something, like stars being the souls of the lost—my father being one of them. I also used to read fairy tales over and over again. I believed that I would spend an eternity loving the same boy I fell for when I was nothing but a child. I had my w…
Short Story – Lady In-Between (Stories from here and there)
How many times in my life have I felt completely overwhelmed by the tide of emotions and the ensuing silence of a depression that could incapacitate even the strongest of men? Some say it is the natural flow of life. “There is beauty in the ups and downs” —but I feel …