Reaching New Heights
Like everyone else, my body inched upwards growing up, until it didn’t. At one point, either I grew too fast or my genetics finally unveiled itself, but I started growing sideways. My legs were extending at such speed that my knees and thighs still have the stretch marks to prove it. But my spine had its own mission in life. It didn’t want to go up, it wanted to go right. Which, ironically, wasn’t right at all. Read more >
Stig & Taras
It was the last week of summer in post-war Berlin, and people were crowded around a corner table in a dark and hazy nightclub. The place was abuzz with whispers and sharp stares, because sat on the velvet couch, fingers around fat cigars and glasses of free alcohol, were the great Stig and Taras. Read more >
Tell Me About Your Ex
Tell me how it felt when you saw her last. Did you sleep that night missing the way she curled in your arms? How did it feel when you wore the shirt she gave you for your birthday—did it burn your skin the way she set fire to your heart? Read more >
Write Me Down
I want to read about myself. As terribly vain as it sounds, I want to see someone unravel me until I’m nothing but bone. Just like how people love seeing themselves through the lens of a camera, I’d like to see myself through the lens of a writer. Read more >
He sat in seat 29A and her in 28A. The plane began to quiver, the cabin darkened, and the crew rushed to their seats. Minutes after, they were twelve thousand kilometres in the air.
If they had been seated next to each other, this was what would have happened. Read more >
The news flashes as red as the cobblestones in Nice.
If it bleeds, it leads.
But oh how much it bleeds—
an endless stream of gore wrung from the flag of the United Nations.
So we light the wicks and send our prayers.
(How many more candles can we burn before Earth resembles hell?)