Short Fiction

When we left, we knew we’d probably never find our way back again.

Salves and salvation were two poles, and he, like the Earth itself, was slightly flattened at the doorstep of both.

The girl and the boy made love to each other every night, and every night they climaxed knowing that they had climbed trees to get to one another.

Even in his blue silk dhoti, Shekhar looks like a walking insect—a fancy walking insect. It is an interesting look for someone with no personality.

There were moments when our rhythms matched, and our feet, with a muddy shoe or two, were up in the blue sky together.