A story is only as good as the storyteller.




It’s been so long since I last wrote to you. I don’t know where to begin but let me start by saying that I still love you. But love my darling is a superficial feeling based on our experiences and conceptions formed throughout our very short lives, influenced by lots of romanticized bullshit.But then again once we manage to dust away all of the above, we might be left with a shiny new feeling and that I believe would be the love which I feel for you.


He cried, blinded by his insight.





He turned right and stumbled into a long white empty corridor where he stopped. There was a solitary figure standing at the end of the corridor where there was a door, probably waiting to be called in. The figure was busy fidgeting with the buttons on his coat and glancing at the watch on his skinny wrist every minute or so. The man was preoccupied so much so that he did not notice Raheem spying on him until five minutes later. He pointed a finger at him and made a wiggling motion meant to call the boy to him. Raheem took a timid step forward. He knew that he was not supposed to be in this part of the ship but he could not ignore the man who was beckoning him with his outstretched finger. He would later recall that the man seemed to have a strange almost mystic control over him. He  started walking towards the man as if in a daze. Before he fully realized what he had done, he had already reached the other end of the corridor.

Raheem violently shook his head in order to clear it.The man was no longer there, instead the door which had been closed for as long as Raheem could remember now stood wide open. The room inside was dark but he could make out the shadows that were moving inside. Ignoring his mother’s warnings and his own apprehension, he stepped into the room and was swallowed by the darkness.

To be continued……


How is the dark unknown if you can define it as the dark? It is the light that is undefinable. Because even when you see you can never be sure of what it is that you are seeing. Faces are masks where your eyes are the only slits that allow a glimpse of the soul. Everyone has a slave in a shadow, it does what you do, when you do it. But as soon as it gets dark, the shadow gets a chance to escape and be free in whatever realm it is that shadows are free.


He had always known she would be the death of him. She looked into his eyes without any signs of remorse as she tightened the knot further around his feeble neck.

“I can’t breathe,” he said gasping for air.

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic dear”, she said as she loosened the tie around his neck.

Moving on

I wish I knew how I felt before you left. Maybe I did,  but you can’t hold on to wishes forever,no matter how beautiful they are. You have to move on in order to be more than a  hopeless swamp of unfulfilled wishes, in order to feel your heart stutter once more the way it did before, to know that there’s a chance at something more out there but only if you’re brave enough to take it.


(This is based on a true incident as narrated by a friend of mine, at the very least what I remember of it.)

The lawns pressed by unseen feet, and ghosts return Gently at twilight, gently go at dawn,The sad intangible who grieve and yearn….

T.S. ELIOT, To Walter de la Mare


“You both were having fun yesterday,” the woman at the reception said to them.

“We don’t remember seeing you,”he replied.

As they were walking by, his friend nudged him in the ribs. For some unknown reason he seemed to have gone white as a sheet of paper.

He turned to look at one of the screens on the woman’s  desk displaying the feed from the cameras.

The feed showed that the chair behind the reception desk was empty and swiveling by itself.

The woman continued to smile at them.


He looked up at the sky, all the while murmuring something under his breath. He dropped to his knees and raised his hands in prayer to the almighty. His clothes were in tatters as if he had just fought a savage beast, his long hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. There was a shovel that had been planted firmly in the ground beside him and it was with this shovel that he had put an end to all his troubles once and for all.

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