The school bus comes early, carrying children with sleepy eyes and silent tongues. Somehow, little K and I scramble to make it to the stop just in time. I high five the air in my head as I stroll back home, taking the long way back. As I watch my feet taking slow steps, I … Continue reading 24- The sweeper’s song
secret yellow wall hides the birth of demons old born of barren trees
Monday woke up to these pretty blooms in my garden. Tell me, is it possible to be blue?
One thousand pieces to join One thousand to scatter Puzzle or Mind?
Little spots of brilliance on an inky sky smiling at the moon from time before my time They whisper stories far and old of Gods and demons and heroes flawed Secret tales for those who seek... ... Dawn comes the stories fade
There's something very gratifying about physical labour. The delicious feeling of comfort as you lay down and straighten those legs at day's end. A cotton mattress thrown on the floor serves as an indulgence as sleep steals over my eyes... There's a little getaway place we have, tucked away at an hour's drive from home. … Continue reading 29- Labour of Love
I'm glad my younger girl likes to read. Even better, she makes her own stories but these are mostly when she has to do lessons. As her mom, I'm supposed to be mad that she isn't doing her work but I love what she creates! I find it fascinating to have a glimpse into the … Continue reading 30- tales by a bookworm