parallel

India

a huge fucking mess

Message to Readers

back w some trashy writing *peace signs*

pov

April 29, 2020

FREE WRITING

7
“mom,” eight-year-old safiya asks. “what are we made of?”

she runs her hand affectionately through her daughter’s hair, a small smile twitching at her lips. “you’ve learnt that at school, raja. muscles and bones and—”

“not that. tell me a story.”

a story. how could she ever resist?

with a sigh, she began: “years ago, the stars wept. they triggered an explosion, and our earth was formed from their blood. the skies wept at being separated from their master, and thus we got the sea. you and i, we’re made of stardust. we are celestial beings connected by narrow strands of humanity; we are but dirt in its most complex form.”

“really?” her daughter asks, wonder twinkling in her eye.

“promise,” she replies, and they watch their siblings plummet downwards, burning balls of light, and she wonders if that could have been them, a different possibility.

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2 Comments
  • Anlee

    wow stunning piece! love love love <3


    3 months ago
  • asta

    that was a lovely story, but the vocabulary used seems complex and out of place, given that it's in dialogue and it's being told to a child. i personally think it would work much better as poetry or maybe expanded and told in a more traditional storybook fashion, but it's still a great piece either way!


    9 months ago