The Voice

Originally posted on Cup of Whimsy:
When he closed his eyes real tight, so tight that his heavy eyelids seemed to disappear into his straining ocular muscles and perhaps into the serpentine folds of his brain itself, so tight that the fleshy red-black sensation of shuteye-sight faded into the deeper and darker black of spilled…

The Sorcerer

On her 30th birthday, Nimali met a sorcerer.  This was quite unexpected, as she had stopped believing in magic – like many – in childhood, once Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy turned out to be elaborate hoaxes.  And she had discarded her cherished fantasy novels back in high school, when the … More The Sorcerer

Self Help

Wraina was a precocious little girl.  She noticed things, like how her father’s breath stunk of whiskey on the nights that he had to “work late” or how her mother’s voice rang with false cheer when saying “I’m fine, and you?” to acquaintances in town who asked “How are you?” She sensed the tension that … More Self Help

The Best Years

They met at Jade Cafe in New York, nearly 30 years after last seeing one another. Kip sat on a high wooden stool and ordered coffee as he perused The Wall Street Journal at the counter. Lana occupied the vast space of a windowside booth alone, sipping a cup of chai as she sketched in … More The Best Years

The Voice

When he closed his eyes real tight, so tight that his heavy eyelids seemed to disappear into his straining ocular muscles and perhaps into the serpentine folds of his brain itself, so tight that the fleshy red-black sensation of shuteye-sight faded into the deeper and darker black of spilled India ink, the throbbing in his … More The Voice