The Broken Truth_A Woman of Loose Morals_Butterfly Love_Stars Like Glass (Trigger Warnings)
Catalog Guide:
The Broken Truth
There are moments in life when I rehearse worst case scenarios and imagine the heroic or dramatic choices I will have to make-and how I will recall the event to reporters with a mystical bravery dressed in modesty for years to come. But when the moment unfolds in actual life, the script is not like the rehearsal. The only similarity is that brief moment when the clock stops and a voice says, “This is happening. This is real.” One would expect the reaction to be smooth since the mind has reviewed every possible horrible situation in the hours before dawn, but all the planning is lost on realit...
A Woman of Loose Morals
Trigger warning: Violence, languageThis story is inspired by true events.Neha covered her head with the dupatta of her salwar-kameez and wrapped it across her shoulder. She put on the oversized black sunglasses borrowed from her roommate Kavya, who — along with the rest of the second-year students of Kasturba Medical College — was attending the first lecture of the day. Dr. Swamy was one of the lenient professors and students often got away with marking proxy attendance for their friends. As Neha checked the pen drive in her pocket for the tenth time, she prayed that Kavya would successfully m...
Butterfly Love
Dear mom, I know it is a parent's instinct to turn all their child's flaws into loveable traits. But after washing and mending my overalls for the 5th time that week you had to finally admit, I was troublesome. The beautiful Saturday afternoon sun was filtering through the tree behind our house into my bedroom. I hated being grounded. It wasn't even my fault! Those boys had paid me five bucks to climb that tree, I didn't know there was a sparrow nest there. With an angry sparrow mama. I heard the sound of your sewing machine from your craft room. I knew you were mending the new hole in my favo...
Stars Like Glass (Trigger Warnings)
Aspyn Belle Vernes- I traced the outline of the glass window, admiring and despising how beautiful the raindrops looked as they spilt down the window’s pane.I remembered how Alessandro and I loved the rain. How we sat together on the couch, me in between his legs, my back pressed to his chest, his arms slung protectively around my waist, pulling my body to his. We’d turn on our all-time favourite movie, The Man in the Moon.I sighed as Poppy climbed into my lap, burying her head into my chest. “Mama?” she asked.I hummed in response, thinking of how late the time was, nearly two in the morning, ...