Four years later and I still remember her voice breaking down on the other end of the phone. That day…
I. My grandmother’s hands were small, her fingers delicate, but they had become rough like leather from years of keeping her…
Zayna pressed the piece of chalk deep into the warm black concrete, the chalk melting in her sweaty palm as…
Amma always looked up at the ceiling when she laughed.She would close her eyes and open her mouth, stained orange…