Writing

I know what it must feel like to be a ghost. I am haunting the life I used to live but haven’t moved on yet, hanging out on the fringes...

The sounds of bicycle bells, car horns, and rickshaw motors are my constant companion. They intermingle with the clanging of construction...

“Are you going to break up with me next?” she cried in frustration and anger. That anger should have been directed completely at me but...