short story
FICTION / The chasm
At around 2 AM he was awoken by the sound of Shahidun’s sniveling cries on her prayer mat. As grating as it might have sounded, he felt grateful for it to have woken him up.
'August': Sehri Tales selections, Day 20
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 20 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: August
'Long': Sehri Tales selections, Day 9
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 9 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Long
FICTION / The smell
“Stop mocking me, Atif! I am telling you there is something here.”
'Flick': Sehri Tales selections, Day 8
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 8 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Flick
'Relief': Sehri Tales selections, Day 7
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 6 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Relief
FICTION / The graveyard in the desert of void
The voices–the wails that had called me here–were emanating from these very graves.
FICTION / Nearness
How do you think I feel every time I find you hovering over the door to my classroom? Like when you’re the only passenger riding up a lift, and then it suddenly stops.
FICTION / Interim
That was the first time in my life I’d smelled charred meat. I could tell it was different from the kind you’re supposed to eat, and my mother had to hold me as I threw up violently on the side of the street.
A Solo Exhibition
Never in his wildest imaginations had Aniket thought that everything would come together so well. Nearly everyone he invited had come.
The Melancholic Man
The whole courtroom held their breath, waiting to hear Nizam's answer. As he nodded in affirmation, the enraged audience got off their seats to beat up the accused.
Wings Across A City Wall
Shimu and Tushar had grown up together on an alley in the Mirpur area of Dhaka city. Their neighbouring houses were separated only by a brick wall, about two meters high. The branches of a tree growing beside Tushar’s house overhung the wall, its foliage shading a part of Shimu’s courtyard.
Payback time
I’m not sure when I first realised that we’d met before. In the beginning, you were just the elderly man I often noticed pottering around our communal rooftop.
Her last words
The slamming of the front door sounded an ominous note, warning of trouble to come.
What’s in a name?
He had been practising saying his name out loud every night before going to sleep so that his ears remained accustomed to hearing his own name
Mr Moti
The monsoons have passed. Moti has grown so healthy, so strong and so big that no other cocks even dare to be near him.
The pond
She walked, entranced, into the water until it reached her chin, the wing of her little pink butterfly stuck out like a shark fin.
Vinayeki
Oh that angelic call, yet I cannot respond. I cannot open my mouth in fear of the burning pain overpowering my senses.
Hunt
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