Adori is not a shadow. Though she now owns a large outlet to sell them, the price still at sixty-five. Adori sells them per-piece basis, not by kilos, and they sell briskly. Her swanky place was once a warehouse, then space enough for the weekly farmer’s market that the local government thought wise to set… Read more Ombromanie

She’s the sand of the dunes. She’s water, the cloud in the sky, the soup in the bowl. She’s sometimes a form, sometimes a shape, someone who takes up contours. Tonight though, my sister is an illuminated face wrapped in a nine-yard muslin, a woman ordered to confinement within the four walls of her home.… Read more One Night