I don’t want Time to stop. When Time stops, stories don’t happen – yours and mine. I don’t wish to stay on forever, caught within the pages of an incomplete story, living a life in the absence of laughter and love.
I wonder how many of them are young and free-willed like my son and his friend, wanting to stay out a little more, flap around a little more, test their boundaries a little more. Instead, they all head back home, reluctantly chasing after the older, wiser, birds.
It is a green one, this butterfly. It flutters past my window as I stand there sipping my tea. These days, I cannot control my
It was a cloudy evening. Hoping that rains would arrive to ease the drought situation in the city, I stepped into the balcony to look