I listen to the dark brooding voice of Buckley and contemplate my predicament. What was once 6 minutes and 34 seconds of artistic despondency that wrung my heart strings like a dirty dish cloth when I was an undergrad is now just a lesson in patience. I’ve got a few seconds to scream at the top of my lungs before ...
The moment he walked into the apartment, I barked out with unbridled indignation: Why?! How could you do this to me? And his reply? Just a shaking of the head before he trundled towards the kitchen cabinet, uncapped the bourbon, and hurled back two gulps. He glanced at me, pouted, and then his trousers slipped down to his bare feet; ...
Laura said that if she ever dies, she’ll let me know whether there’s life beyond the grave; it was just a half-hearted tease to a half-hearted question I asked about immortality. I counted to 40 as she raced around various trees and bushes and hid. We’ve done this numerous times, but there was a morbid sense of unease enveloping me ...
For just a second I didn’t respond to the word Brad. It’s only after I heard the name repeated with a sense of urgency and worry, did I turn around and look at Vivian. I smiled and she relaxed visibly. As I hugged her, she melted into my arms. Poor Vivian. A smile played on my lips, because I know that Brad’s not home today.
This little story features a bottle of red wine with a forgettable name, my wife, our mutual best friend of 18 years — Chris, and my two sons — Cameron and Brad. Thank the good Lord for great friends, I slurred happily, and we all agreed and gulped down more wine. I look at my wife giggling at one of ...
Life doesn’t prepare you for most of the shit it throws at you (that’s for sure). Take today, for example. Your phone rings in your pocket, and you just know by instinct that some serious shit has come up. Dad! — he wails. Mum’s dead, and I don’t know what to do! — he continues, and resigns himself into a ...
It’s been 14 days since the food ran out; in another 2 days there will be no water. Dad said sometime ago that desperation leads people to do terribly desperate things. I probably shouldn’t have asked about dinner tonight, right after saying grace, while holding hands with Mum and Dad. I felt my Mum squeeze my hand a bit too ...
Mama used to say that bad things don’t happen to good people. I wish Mama were alive now: so I could look her in the eye and say that bad things only happen to good people. I mean look what happened to me. Four shots of gin and I’m thinking of how life is like being seated on a speeding ...
The long drive to Ravi Fernando’s home, which was cocooned in the suburbs of Colombo, was an entertaining one. Complete with numerous turns, sporadic bursts of traffic, dead ends, gravel traps, and confused murmurs emanating from the Uber driver, Google Maps itself seemed to lose interest as to where exactly I was. But the challenging journey in rush-hour traffic served ...
I thought it apt to wear a kurtha-inspired shirt that day as I knocked on the tall, black gates of India House. A moment later, as the gates opened wide, I stood dwarfed by the rolling gardens and the vista that housed the Indian High Commissioner to Sri Lanka and his wife. It truly was a scene that took my ...
Lol. Remember those nights when I used to tuck you in, and you used to murmur — Thank you, Chris. It haunts me. Still. Sorry, Eliza but I’m drunk right now. I ate a Lankan lamprai and washed it down with half a bottle of Jameson whiskey. Now the alcohol is pulling at my heart strings and pinching my brain. ...
Rainy days always bring in the gloom, but Jack never expected a day like today to send the peals of the door bell sauntering around the house. He also didn’t expect to see such a handsome stranger — with his rheumy and sad eyes — wearing a sunny smile on cheerful pink lips. Wars may turn boys into men, but ...
We’ve all probably heard the usual story before; you know the one where you struggle through school, university, embrace a career, and work incredibly hard to make something of yourself. That’s what most Lankans born in the 70s and 80s did: they migrated and started a new and vibrant life abroad. Dr. Maryse Selit is no different. Here was an ...
No more crappy Happy Meals for you and Mae, sweetheart. Take that money, buy yourself that Forever 21 dress that you wanted last Christmas, get Mae that Barbie, and make sure that heater gets fixed. I’m sorry I can’t be with you to celebrate our anniversary; I can see the tears coursing down your cheeks, and tremble before falling on ...
Wrapped in a heavy night gown, Grandma was exhaling labored spurts of fetid air as she asked with a staccato-paced voice for more morphine. I could’ve given it to her but the last shot was given just half an hour ago. But did it matter? She was at death’s doorstep madly knocking away, wanting ever so badly to leave a ...
Don’t destroy my dreams, my love. This is all I have. This is all I can do. These were the words he draped across my ears. I need to write what I write because the only monster haunting me is here, he said, tapping his forehead. Promise me your monsters won’t leave your books and haunt us, I whispered. The ...
The first time he gave in, he felt waves of nausea wrack his gut. Not only was he disgusted, but he was mortified that he could think up such vile intentions. The thoughts continued to haunt him: at first they dripped into his consciousness like summer rain, and then it took on an alarming crescendo of intent. And he gave ...
He dug into the chowder, and his face expressed a look of pure bliss. A minute in and his face creased, coiled, and contorted in confusion. Staring at me, he gently placed his spoon on the table, put his fingers into his mouth, and pulled out — a petite finger with a gold ring around it. As his face turned ...
He remembered an unimportant fact when the doorbell rang — The brain remains active 6 minutes after the body dies. And today, Stephen knew how he was going to die; he realized it even before opening the box handed to him by a fresh-faced delivery boy. He shook the box and laughed. He peeled away the layers of cardboard that ...
Mote-laden clouds whirled about as Chung Ling Soo took to the stage on the 24th of March. The year was 1918. Behind the mask of mascara, rouge, eye shadow, and lipstick was not an Oriental face, but one that was British. He was a charlatan. The deviousness in his eyes dissipated slowly as he solemnly readied himself for his final ...