Falling. Have you ever felt the sensation? I have, and I am. My helmet light can only reveal so much. To my left, to my right, above and below me, nothing but darkness and the cool rush of particles as they pass into my one illumination of light. It’s part of my training to remain calm; it’s part of my genetics to remain calm. Continue reading
Forget your name. Throw your ID away. You don’t need the passport either. Convince yourself that you come from nowhere. You were born out of indefinite matter. You don’t remember how you got to this planet. You don’t really know what a planet is, after all. And why we say after all. Or what we mean by all. Continue reading
She inhabits an empty barren world,
filled with vibrant greens which ripple into
rust and violet and corn and maroon,
and bright sunshine that reflects starlight on Continue reading
This is how it goes:
Pee on a stick.
Wait anxiously for a bit of plastic to tell you if there’s the beginning of a real life human inside your stomach.
If not, try again. Buy double the number of tests and pee on it once every week. Continue reading
Will it be published? Probably not, novellas are often considered too short. Will it make you the next J.K. Rowling or Stephen King? Hard to say, if you’re extremely lucky, then perhaps. Though you might as well start playing the lottery if that’s your goal. What a novella will do is probably give you a sense of accomplishment. And hey, you can still refer to it as a “book”, so what if it’s a small one?
You shed your skin with sinful ease as time runs to keep up.
Ten weeks worth of smashed cots burn bonfire-bright in your belly
despite the December rain. You throw his letters to the wind now,
you wash your own hair now.
by Serena Malra
