Thursday, March 14, 2019

story

she gripped the sink with both hands, blood curling underneath fingernails. Her cheeks flamed red, crimson like the sun over the fields of Rampur, crimson like the setting rays of the sun now over the Mediterranean.
She couldn't believe her foolishness. What was she seeking to find anyway? Here? In the chatter and the crowd and the narrow alleyways of the always awake chaos.