Every month, The Reading Room showcases a short story, or excerpts of a book, from some of the greatest writers the world has ever seen.
“Here take this”, Radha plonked a big old VIP suitcase in front of me, “one of the locks is broken, but I don’t think that…
I haven’t thought about her in two days. Guilt guiding my feet, I climb the rickety wooden ladder to the attic, wipe the dust off…
How do I express the god that’s gone
seemingly forever into darkness?
Bare-breasted nymphs with six arms or more:
A model, a pageant, a dancer and a whore,
Paraded before a kipa, a hijaab and a turban;
Guava is not a fruit
but an Indian afternoon lingering red
in a summer adolescence