Tag: short story

My Old Self

I swirl my stubby espresso cup and draw the first sip. It is wonderous how the first sip of coffee promises a tantalizing sensation, only to rob you of that expectation just after you pass that bitter lush foam. Then it’s just coffee. I…

The Lost fire

My eyes ache, I must have overslept, the agony of meek existence creeping in. But I remember, It crawls back to me like a soft piece of silk gliding over my hairy arm. A beautiful face, my wife kissing me before fleeing to work…