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Espresso Shots

Espresso Shots

The ironed shirts delivery: A short story

Mr. Brown was farsighted, a condition commonly referred to by an ophthalmologist as Hyperopia. That word, however, would have been at odds with Mr. Brown. No one could possibly link the meticulous and methodical man with anything remotely hyper. Every morning, without fail, he would sit up in his bed, turn off the alarm, and take in the steady never changing sight of the row of tall pine trees that lined his backyard fence. Mr. Brown had picked this house…

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Espresso Shots

upsidedownturn

“you can’t go back…” whispered the summer wind brushing against my temple. “what? what did you say?” it was nine in the morning, my mind wasn’t fully alert yet. “you can’t go back home,” a ring of quiet assertion in the palmate leaf of the plant on my desk. “it didn’t matter then… it matters now,” the white tea cup said. the cup was almost empty. i longed for a sip of tea. how many years was it now that…

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Espresso Shots

nolen gur, balaclava, and bombs

“if you don’t want a child, just use nirodh!” said the ten year old. “nirodh!” there was awe and bursting curiosity in the nine year old’s voice as she struggled to keep her voice down, “what do you do with it not to have the baby?!” “shhhh! shh! mgpgmmph!” the other nine year old warned, index finger on his lips, he had just stuffed a whole nolen gurer kancha golla, that delightful sweet made of tender cottage cheese and new…

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Espresso Shots

What she learnt at school that day…: A short story

going back to school short story

She had hoped to take the bus to the school, but as usual, had allowed herself to get distracted by one last hallway discussion which truth be told could easily have been deferred. If one were to dig deeper, the true reason for the delay was the subconscious opposition to walking in the cold. For it was cold that morning. She was still distractedly typing on her phone, the elevator deciding to stop at every other floor, when she realized…

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Espresso Shots

the girl called rhino

a wail rose up in the calm late afternoon air. the tail end of it came stalking into the room with the plump little girl, who threw herself on the bed, burying her face in the cushion lying on top of the carefully covered pillows. the wail turned into a smothered whimper now, though as far as the calm of the afternoon was concerned, both had the same effect on it. “oh ma, why’re you behaving like that? what’s the…

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Espresso Shots Mythology and More

headcount

ravan was chasing me. he had ten heads and ten faces and ten sets of teeth bared as he sprinted effortlessly, bow and arrow in hand. his skin was swarthy, his eyes bulged, his hair blew wildly in the wind. i could feel my breath getting shorter and shorter, till there was practically no breath left. my feet were tired. my head was hurting. how would i ever come out of this alive? then i remembered something. i stopped running.…

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Espresso Shots

on glinjerade rim

  steam rose in quiet swirls from the tea cup. the sky was cloudy, a faint hint of tea leaf in the air. it was almost 8am. allyrie swung past the second ellipse and turned toward trudon high. in the depth of her manah, she saw licks of myriad hues, a gushing sound came closer. was there a flood of vyrka on trudon high again? there was no time to ponder such things though, allyrie was on her way to…

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Espresso Shots

the red oxide floor

it looked like it was going to rain. flashes of lightning lit up the frosted window pane every now and then. the quiet but ominous rumbling of thunder could be heard, approaching. deepa typed away, her mind suffused with a world she had been trying to find words for the entire day. her fingers moved swiftly over the keypad, then halted as the letters began to form a word. no, it wasn’t right, it didn’t say what she was trying…

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Espresso Shots

five feet of the snake

  “unpalatable to the lord of death! first among the monkeys!! you’ve seen five feet of the snake?? burnt face, extract of low stock!!” jomer oroochi! bandorer ogrogonno!! shaaper paanch pa dekhecho?? mukh pora, bodjaat!! the swear words flew fast, interrupted only by indignant breaths, equally rapid. the frail old lady’s voice got more stentorian with each word, the affront in it resounding. “return them this moment! return them now, i say!” she bellowed, her small frame shaking, her chest…

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Espresso Shots

revolution

the tiny dark man in spotless white dhoti and panjabi – in bengal the kurta has been called that for a very long time – had just reached the palm tree at the end of the unpaved gravel strewn path leading up to the house. rimi peered out of the window, her eyes getting brighter with each step the man took, as she unconsciously closed the book lying on the desk. she’d study later. now, it was time for bismil…

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