Fiction
“…happiness is perhaps too simple to let itself be written about…a life lived in happiness is therefore a life lived in muteness.” From Kaddish for an Unborn Child by Imre Kertesz
Leeya Mehta
The only others who drooled like this were dogs and Kalu the crow who visited our kitchen every day. “Greed, my dear, greed,” that was what mummy said.
Leeya Mehta
Feel like reading some urban satire?
Tokyo Tour: Around midnight he was awoken by furious knocking. The woman from the reading was yelling outside. “What’s she saying?” he asked. “He’s my boyfriend, I want him back.”
The only others who drooled like this were dogs and Kalu the crow who visited our kitchen every day. “Greed, my dear, greed,” that was what mummy said.
Feel like reading some urban satire?
Tokyo Tour: Around midnight he was awoken by furious knocking. The woman from the reading was yelling outside. “What’s she saying?” he asked. “He’s my boyfriend, I want him back.”