x
Menu

Fiction

Fire Season

All day she listened, stepped out into the yard to listen, and didn’t hear birds singing or insects buzzing. Heard only a little wind, perhaps, or the drumming of a neighbor who practices every day—who has practiced every day for months—never to arrive at any confidence or skill.

The Confidante

Her clients carried secrets inside them like tiny winged termites. The women brought them to Diva, the spa in Sunder Bagh, along with their naked limbs and tousled hair. The termites trembled and whispered inside the women, trapped and desperate,…