thoughts light up and send me down a shimmering trail.…
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bengali wedding
the flames lunged up, their ends tapering, blowing, dancing, impatient and in a rush to catch the khoi. the parched rice, light, plump and crisp white, had just started to slide off the winnowing fan. it floated down, a lacework of shimmering grain. a streak of fire shot forward and caught a khoi. there was a spark of light, then it was gone. a flash of heat hit her face. the sound of the khoi crackling as it burnt shot…