Fiction

Published in the Porch Litmag One Wednesday in August, I decide to haiku and eulogize my mother. Not at the same time, of course. I could never fit a haiku around my Ma. 17 syllables would be far too many for her euphony. Ghrrrrrrr ghrrrrrrrr...

Published in the Kindle Mag “You can’t play with those boys under the jamun tree!” warned his grandmother as Amit reached out to push the heavy black metal gate open. “Why?” He wanted to scream the why out, but knew better. “Because they’re dirty,...