Job, love and monotony

Job, love and monotony P K Routray If you earnestly love your job, it will turn to be your heart throb. If you do not love your job, the peace and happiness of life it will rob.
Poem of the week

How To Kill A Child

Aleppo, July 2012.

The Newcomer

He arrived on campus the sixth day after university opened that year, looking considerably brown after his summer in Nelson. He was tall and lank with dark messy hair and glasses.

The king’s funeral

It was a magnificent ceremony, one that the city will remember ‘til the end of days. Eighty-six priests had gathered to perform the ceremony, from every corner of the kingdom.

The Nemesis

I was nine when she left. Mackenzie and my parents had a big row the night before and in the morning her bed was neatly (and uncharacteristically) made, with a note on top.

the performer

megalomaniac wakes up one early morn with a brand new personal plausible excuse & this will be the answer of all answers for her/him, so that s/he may beat upon the drum

digital footprints

one night i dreamt i was surfing in cyberspace & many images flickered in Adobe Flash with every movement made, every keystroke & slide of the mouse to & fro,

“prayer” & reflection

clasping hands together, getting down on their knees, squinting eyes closed (in decent lighting which certainly doesn’t call for such action), concentrating on that thing inside
Cherry

The Map Girl – Part 3 (IP)

Stepping off of the magical, travelling map, rolling it into a scroll and sliding it back inside her sky blue satchel, Mapella looked around with a mixture of trepidation and awe at the grim inner san
Cherry

The Map Girl – Part 2 (IP)

“Oh, what now!”, whimpered the man in white as the strange, bright rainbow coloured ball of light appeared in the corner of his darkened cell and, growing larger and more intensely bright, began t

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