Be not afraid of whirlpools, of strong winds, and murky waves. Fear the creature that dwells in the darkness deep, the ice-shackled Kraken, that threatens to surface and your soul to keep. With your every stroke in the cheery water… Read More ›
Ghosts hover within these walls Unseen footsteps patter in the halls Lions couchant guard the gates Marble pain on their sealed fates The stain on the carpet – blood or wine? Remember when we used this room to dine? Abandoned… Read More ›
‘Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep.’ In her novel Circe, nominated this year for the Women’s Prize for Fiction, Miller takes this premise and… Read More ›
In the eye of the hurricane, of clamour and clangour, of deafening din, we stare into the distance and try to find a focus,a convergence, for our ruthless ruminations to make the internal voices, shouts, screams, and whispers less potent… Read More ›
I’ve devoted last couple of weeks to finalising my poetry collection titled Beneath the Surface. Some of these poems are new, some I have carried around in various notebooks and crumpled bits of paper for years, now it’s time for… Read More ›
1.0 Introduction William Golding’s Lord of the Flies is reminiscent of his predecessors, Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe and Ballantyne’s The Coral Island in his situating the action on an uninhabited tropical island. Unlike his predecessors, however, Golding does not explore… Read More ›
Veles’s cackle skidded down the valley and bounced off of the mountain peaks. Perun clenched his hand around the flaming bolt and narrowed his eyes. Clouds, like a flock of sooty sheep, herded in the skies and grazed the tops… Read More ›
In her beautifully written novella, strewn with numerous references to literature, music, and pop culture that allow readers to immerse themselves into the protagonist’s universe, the author Mixie Plum takes her readers on an emotional roller coaster, from laugh-out-loud highs… Read More ›
the Wind is back with her willowy fingers and her icy breath she’s stroking the hair scratching the cheeks rustling the leaves like the pages of an oft-read book she’s stirring the smells in her grey cauldron summoning the memories… Read More ›
My time drips to the floor Vanishes in the cracks Drunk by the thirsty wood Like water from a capsized glass Leaving me unquenched Letting the canyons on my face run dry As I wait for the world, the people,… Read More ›
The day was still. The lake, as sleek as a crisp sheet of glass, mirrored the clear skies and the pointy tips of the surrounding pine trees. The sun was moving westwards and the crickets’ subtle melody bounced off of… Read More ›
The snow was thawing. Icy drops fell from the trees, like heavy, grief-laden tears, and formed muddy rivulets that snaked downhill and into the overflowing village brook. Morana stood beside the brook, leaning against a tree stump that jutted like… Read More ›
Veles leaned against the gates of Iriy. His gaze rested on the retreating forms of Lada and Gerovit. A bird landed on one of his horns and started chirping a merry melody, but he grunted and waved it away. The… Read More ›
It had been a long winter and Lada was tired of staying in Iriy, the heavenly world of the dead, where she had to reside until the summer came. Veles, the ruler of forests and her companion in Iriy, had… Read More ›
