In life we have no time. In death we’ve got all eternity.

At the time I made a decision, a sensible one, in which love might or might not have had a role to play. What was more appealing, was a promise of a peaceful life that she has had until now, untouched by quandary. But that too was slipping away and she was powerless to recapture it, a virtuous relationship and its limpidness that knew neither quarrels nor deceit.

Mother I had a beautiful house in Shingdi a vegetable garden Vines of bitter gourd lettuce English spinach and tousled coconut trees Coconuts fell on my darling husbands head One day we made love under the tree Now I was pregnant just like my orchard full of fruits with the love child Oh I ran as hard as I could from the shadow These were shadows of time shadows of the past...

Tinges of crimson glowed momentarily, before masses of ink and grey crowded in. Constable’s sky would not have looked more poetic on its canvas with such a spillage of riotous colours. Vapours crossed broodingly about in emptiness, right before a melt-down. Quick lightening crept through unpredictably in toothed lines, followed by bellows from heavens above. Nalia began to run like a petrified black gazelle.

She sat down on the bank of the Murma River and weeded nettles from an over grown grassy patch. Strange, she could not find any flowers in the lowland of the river bank. Silvery waves dulled under the grey cloud. It was going to rain again. She looked up. Her brother was gone. Yes, but his boat had capsized near the shores of the Siren peninsula. And that was that. It was one of the lucky stories. Boats al- ways sank in the deep seas near the Underworld.

Mother I had a beautiful house in Shingdi a vegetable garden Vines of bitter gourd lettuce English spinach and tousled coconut trees Coconuts fell on my darling husbands head One day we made love under the tree Now I was pregnant just like my orchard full of fruits with the love child Oh I ran as hard as I could from the shadow These were shadows of time shadows of the past ...

At the time she made a decision, a sensible one, in which love might or might not have had a role to play. What was more appealing, was a promise of a peaceful life that she has had until now, untouched by quandary. But that too was slipping away and she was powerless to recapture it, a virtuous relationship and its limpidness that knew neither quarrels nor deceit.” ― Mehreen Ahmed, Jacaranda Blues

Such is the mood of the sea today, changeable and unpredictable.

The placid sea shines like an aluminium sheet rolled out to the end of the horizon.

Down by the stream, Rose gathered many unknown little flowers and twigs. Nearby haystacks at the centre of the barn, nothing stirred: nt even a piece of straw fell out of place. Emma dived deep into the pond. The water of the pond imparted a greenish tinge on her floating body,