Category

HoneyPot

Quarter to Five

I sat at the confessional, my Black tartan Harris Tweed Hip flask dangling from my neck. Like Hebrides, the home of Harris Tweed my soul gets so cold she keeps me warm. The priest’s voice, soothing and pompous pierced through… Continue Reading →

Homecoming

May 5th When my old man turned fifty, I could not figure out a perfect gift for a man of his caliber. He was quite a strange man, almost queer. I bet the days he smiled, God saw it fit… Continue Reading →

A Night Full of Stars

This life is a canvas. A blank canvas. And I am faithful to the ink. So I will let the ink take me wherever it will. This is not a story of a boy meet world. It is a tale… Continue Reading →

Published

He brushed my chin with his sausage fingers and a smile broke on my lips. Whether it was his touch or the blood pulsating through my veins, there was something about him. He smirked his lips and they turned into… Continue Reading →

The Shoe Shiner’s Daughter

The bristles of the brush rub against the black leather, gently then vigorously scattering the dust particles on the man’s shoes. The shoe-shiner sat humbly on his stool, rags clinging on to his body as if they were customarily made… Continue Reading →

The Social Misfit and the Chocker

She sat staring out the window, distant and detached. Every time our eyes met, she’d look away. The choker desperately clung on to her thin neck. Sometimes she’d glaze at her phone. I was sure, she was waiting for someone…. Continue Reading →

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