From the Pen of an eleven year old Home-schooled girl! “Rania!” I whipped my head around, and padded down the stairs. “Yes?” “Run and get the milk, will you?” “Alright,” I said, picking up the 100 kyat from on top of the rusty kitchen counter. “What – they’ve raised the price even more!” “I know,” […]

The Seventh Grader Writes Again! Oh! My feet hurt, hello, I am a mango tree, everyone’s favorite and a huge shady tree. In the daylight, lots of people rests under my shadow. I live in a village of Pakistan, a small village. but I am happy, being the only one in this village, who is

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A Gap In Time

“Assalamualikum!” I said as I walked towards the kitchen “Moooom, I’m home!”. “Wa’alaikum assalam.” Mum replied, busy preparing something. “I know which one of my children it is by the way they open and shut the door, no need scream to announce your arrival!” “Hm, missed you too. Why are you making mango pickle again?

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A bonfire in the middle of a warm forest. People laugh as their echoes rattle in the valley. Tales of times long past are a lesser burden on the elderly. the trees lean in to listen. Like they listened to their fathers. The trees have their own tales. Maybe some other night. Stout birds snuggle

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His arms were tighter around her. His beard scratched her neck and cheeks. She waited. She waited for a long time for the hug to be over. His breath was hot, quick and desperate. Her tiny body bending to his will. Her fragile ribs almost snapped at the severity of the physical contact. The air

GarageRead More »