Posted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Story |
It was a warm and humid August morning, so warm, so bright. Gerrard, a young chap of just eighteen, was in a hurry to be on time for his first day of college. At first, he thought about playing hooky and spending the day...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Story |
My hands worked quickly. The knife I held in my right hand sliced down, red seeped from the cut. The knife went deeper, still the red oozed and spread across the table, forming little pools, so red. The colour soaked...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Review |
Anne Tammel is a well-known name in poetic/literary circles in the USA, and increasingly known, now, amongst serious readers and literati in Europe, the Middle East and South Asia. She has already previously...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Story |
She barreled through the crowd wrapped tightly around my shrinking figure, a miniature dynamo of flying blond curls and righteous indignation. “Leave her alone! What are you staring at?!” she barked, her sense of authority...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Article |
Poetry is such a futile activity. I’m sure most poets know the feeling. We run around in the streets tormented by astounding metaphors. Who care if we find the right word or not? Searching for truth is like hunting in the dark,...
Read More
Recent Comments