Masala Dosa_Quitting Time_The Farm_This Is Where I Been
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Masala Dosa
Masala DosaYesterday evening, I went to the ParDesi Restaurant & Bar near Harvard Square to reward myself for completing a big project: FedEx had just picked up my revised research proposal for overnight delivery to a federal health agency. I went alone, afraid thatwww.onedoor.cc thoughts about the success of the proposal would distract me from being good company. I was wrong.“Bhabi kither?” asked Salim, the owner, at the foyer. This Indian custom of making total strangers into close relatives had always annoyed me. Accordingly, Caroline, my girlfriend for the last five years become his sister-in-law, ...
Quitting Time
"I can't do this anymore. I worked too hard and gave too many years of my life to continue in a place where I am miserable every day of the year." Those were the words I bellowed as I handed in my resignation letter. Fortunately, I'd saved up just enough money to leave for better things, but my savings won't last forever. I have to be strategic about finding a better place to exist. My name is Thomas, and today is the day I hit the road and find my way in life. Many States are offering attractive packages for the correct industries to move in, but as a resident of California, I'd best be prepa...
The Farm
Jake was concerned. His farm had been through droughts before but never as severe as this one. His crops hadn’t seen rain in eight months. Resulting in the failure of all harvests during that time. Pumpkin season was upon him and despite the dry soil he planted a sizeable number of seeds. Looking out on the fields he felt an urge to try something out off the ordinary. Perhaps a rain dance or some sort of sacrifice to the rain Gods. He was a desperate man who was willing to try anything. If the pumpkins didn’t produce, he would lose his home and land. If it didn’t rain soon and consiste...
This Is Where I Been
Trigger warning: racial slurs, racial violenceTime had been when a man could do what he loved and let the money follow. That’s what my daddy always said anyway. Too bad those times, aren’t now – now the money runs the other direction, regardless of what you do. I’m not sure, maybe that bunch of clouds on the horizon were filled with rain, rain to nourish my dust-packed wheat fields; maybe not.Either way, that old shack we’d converted into an outbuilding loomed large before me, nothing but dead wheat shafts surrounding it as far as the eye could see. I felt a chill creep up my spine as I walked...