A story about an 11 year old boy’s small thoughts spurred by the feeling of corduroy fabric on his skin. A feeling that kept strangely and interestingly coming back in the form of memories and dreams at the age of twenty, the almost-age of fifty and his final year of nintey-two. A story that remainedContinue reading “Corduroy”
Tag Archives: fiction
so ist es.
so it is. I met him accidentally. A chance was presented to me. Like a single thread that wove in and out of itself, he turned into a net that both tripped me and caught me from falling. He carried me with a single thread spun into a web. And with the loose end ofContinue reading “so ist es.”
Excerpts from my unfinished novel
Excerpt 1: It is inevitable that mistakes occur in life. My people had taught me that this is what makes life intriguing. I know stories about how their mistakes turned out to be favorable, to the point where they’d laugh with delight at the vigor and vitality in taking downs up to ups, turning sadnessContinue reading “Excerpts from my unfinished novel”
The Sunken Forest
August 25th, 2014 – “That Day” / “Today” Fire Island, New York Dear H, My sentences will be long. If you are in quarantine like I am, only read this letter when you want to plunge into the abyss like we used to, where sentences are made for pure feelings, and where they lack structureContinue reading “The Sunken Forest”
Helpfulness
The best quality in a human being is Helpfulness. There is a corner in my heart filled with nametags, uniforms, hairstyles, voices, eye colors, and smiles of strangers who have helped me as if their life depended on it. They don’t know me and if they once did, they surely forgot me now. But IContinue reading “Helpfulness”
Fire Island Scribbles -3-
A super weird piece I don’t remember writing. I hesitated in posting a piece I did not like at all, but I felt it spoke for a day or two in my life in which I had such an urge to be a girl with an Albanian name and no Albanian background fixated on signs.Continue reading “Fire Island Scribbles -3-“
Bring Joy to Their Hearts
Once, upon a waning crescent moon during a spring in Khobar, Saudi Arabia, two apricot sellers wheeled their wooden carts down a long sandy curb outside of the market, a few hundred meters apart from each other. As the sun was packing to take its leave for the day, and so were the other marketContinue reading “Bring Joy to Their Hearts”
Quercetin
“Why write fiction?” asked the bookshop’s sales manager, “Why not write about philosophy – erratic emotions, wise thinking, real experiences, contemplation – you’d be good at that. The world is full of forged personalities as it is. Maybe that’s why you don’t have clients. People need to relate to the gist these days rather thanContinue reading “Quercetin”
The Woman who Hand-painted her Wall Indigo
When I was a student, there was a ravishing woman with peculiar thin Medusa hair whom I drove past every late morning. I stopped a couple of narrow town houses down from hers to throw my garbage out, where the garbage metal containers were all huddled near each other on a clearing made before aContinue reading “The Woman who Hand-painted her Wall Indigo”
Long Sentences on Short Flights
If I hadn’t cried that day at the airport by my flight’s gate with disconcerting openness, the mid-aged lady with the outrageously long acrylic nails and red flannel shirt tied around her waist would not have stared to then excuse herself from staring and amiably point out the mascara goop at the corner of myContinue reading “Long Sentences on Short Flights”
Beisan's Burble 