Short Stories

If the child is the studying kind, it will study anyhow!” Venkamma grumbles loudly from the kitchen. Relegated to the far end of the house the kitchen is a dark room. Rice bubbles on a copper pot over an old kerosene stove. The wall white washed for her son’s wedding has turned brown in patches. A three feet high trim of tar runs at the bottom of all the walls. The beams of the ceiling are painted with tar and Cashew rind oil. The heat from the wood fire and the summer make the tar ooze down towards the walls.

Your ears don’t hear?! I am talking to you!” Venkamma calls out angrily. To read the full story click on this link Sonu's English medium schooling

They lay facing each other; she is drawing patterns on his chest hair. Tickled; Brad places his hand gently on hers to still the doodling.  The corner of her lips lift in a smile. He draws her body close to his and presses his lips on her damp forehead. Meera arches her back and looks up at him; her eyelids skimming her eyes down and up and down languidly. They had made love for the first time in three years.

He looks at her intently. Almost like he is seeing her for the first time. They have known each other for eleven years and lived together for a little more than four years. To read the full story click on this link I treasure our friendship