Sapna sips her café au lait on the patio of the Alliance Française de Bangalore. The styrofoam cup squeaks between her fingers, the beverage is…
She leaned back against a bit of plywood spraypainted with hieroglyphics that had once signified a neighborhood swept and cleared. Her piousness was a beacon,…
“I hate you!’ Maya cried and dashed to the bedroom, kicking the door behind her. The heavy door, solid seasoned-teak, swayed but stopped short of…
… its studied perspective and funneled point of view
having sucked me in
to roam a plaza almost entirely empty
the wings of a seraphim grow.
Like the blue.
Lying on the bed
one breast free from bounds
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.