The perfect hand
You wanted him. You wanted him right there at the door. “Can I take you out tonight?” you asked instead and he said, “I have just the clothes for the occasion.”
Browsing: Fiction Stories
Cooked Meat
Yet she could not remember her own name. She tried recalling all the female names she knew, certain she would recognise hers once she heard it. Fatuma. Naima. Khadija. Hawa. Malyun. Zainab. Ambiya. Batula. Rukiya. Ifrah. Quresha… None sounded like the name she would know to be hers.
Takahiro
a short story by Judyannet Muchiri.
Nightdancing
The faces started to blur after a while. Why remember them? Each one was the…
The way beautiful things break
At dawn, she drags herself from the bed, leaving the sheets ruffled into a heap…
The Orchard of Broken Dreams
I Other people die and stay dead. Others leave and never come back. But not…
For Whom the Light Shines
The boat drifted on the endless sea, lugging the twelve remaining passengers. Seven men. Four…
Caníbales
The phone rang. Mama picked. Three minutes after ‘hello’ she was still listening. “Thank you,”…
Onesies Never Worn
Where I come from, they don’t name a child until seven days and seven nights…
Resentment
1. If you ask me how my navel ring ended up in the back seat…