I sat right under her mouth, a bit slanted towards the left of her jutting chin.

Our heads hang lower than our cumulative grade

There are Things that come crawling in the night. In the darkest hours. They crawl under your skin and along your spine in the silence that follows the falling apart of worlds.

“Jekyll,” she called me,

With Led Zeppelin blasting from my speakers, I didn't notice the sound of a car's engine pulling into our driveway.

“I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, Kissed me quite insane."

It was a bizarre little ad, and one Paul Wickens wouldn't have taken seriously if the press hadn't been covering Tabula Rasa so obsessively.

My sister Saiyara was a ticking time bomb on most days. What surprised me the most was that nobody else in the house could feel it. They just saw her going through the motions, doing everything she was supposed to do with that stoic look on her face. Kind of strange, the sort of dead people we live with. Saiyara kept telling me she felt dead. But to me she was the most alive person in the house.

There's a song at the end of the tunnel. It is such that when you reach the end, it will diffuse into every cell of your body and pull you closer to it, and soon you will find yourself in a state of eternal bliss.

Hands folder in prayer

When Nabila started drooling every time the bua served dinner, chasing cars down the street and running about in circles while trying to look at her own bottom, we all thought she was taking her A Levels a little too seriously.

God is my favorite painter. He has amazing works of art. Space and time are His canvas

Gnaw and bicker at my woes, My regrets of the morrows biding to be done;

Her wrinkles were as mellow as folds in smooth cake batter and her hair smelled of coconut oil. There's something so humble about that, something so earthy. It smelled of home.

Pour out the visions from

When I first sat on the bed, I wondered if she (I suppose it was a she) could differentiate between me and the others, for I was, after all, new.

Her son had Anencephaly.

Forgetting the string of cassiterite beads

As the rooster's call slowly shook the whole ranch awake, Xavi got up with the same feeling of indifference he had every morning.

There stood a wall, unremarkable, dull, and damp and dilapidated from both age and the cold drizzling days of London weather, which would often beat its ruthless fists upon it.