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Twilight is nigh And I must go To the place that’s mine So I may be whole. All the parts of me That are scattered hither and thither Must come back again For a summons has come.
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My sister will turn 24 soon. And that means she is going through all the things that I went through when I was that age. It also means that I can offer her unique insight into how not to freak out and how to milk this so that she learns her lesson without inconveniencing herself…
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She screamed She wept Till her throat was raw and eyes numb But it wasn’t enough. She tried again She cried again To find a way to express The anguish and rage.
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Hello, yes you, you over there, yes I mean you, are you listening? Are you ready? Come closer, a little more, no that’s it. Are you here or is your mind wandering away? Take a minute, take a breath, this is important so I need you to focus. Snap my finger, hello? Yes good. No…
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You would hope, think, assume that the hardest part of being a writer would be writing. In case you missed the heavy dose of sarcasm in that line, let me tell you, writing is the easiest part of being a writer!
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Fire and pain. Screams. Did they belong to the people she had killed? Or did they belong to her? Where did she end and they begin? Was Abhor a part, perpetrator or god of this living hell?
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tales of Suchita 