Winter in Dhaka is warmer than anticipated. There are hardly anymore wintry days when one would have the pleasure to wake up to the city covered in mist.
Category: Fiction
“Generator” by Rebecca Grieco
The rain sometimes smells different in summertime, like something heavy, dark gray stone. Sometimes it smells like the river God has gone upstairs to spend some time with his mother.
“Frozen Fried Forgotten” by Theresa Do
Opened door cold soup stalemate aroma: the fly awakening the lights came on across the room another door opened a low wattage light bulb emitted weak beams darting towards the microwave pushing its wings to beat the clock revving up the minuscule engine skidding off into the light. Continue reading ““Frozen Fried Forgotten” by Theresa Do”
