The Grit of Unfinished Play
I remember the taste of red dust on my tongue, the kind that rises when you run barefoot across a dry field in the heat of July. It is a metallic, thirsty flavor that coats the back of the throat, mingling with the smell of sun-baked earth…
Hearts in Queue by Abhijit Bhowmick
I was strolling in the garden of Westin Prince Hotel, Toronto, when I spotted these lovely bleeding hearts flower plant. There was breeze and bit of low light which was a challenge for me, however after repeated attempts and some patience I…
The Weight of the Day
The smell of damp earth after a long day of labor is a thick, grounding perfume. It clings to the skin, a mixture of sweat and cooling soil that speaks of muscles finally uncoiling. I remember the feeling of walking home when the air begins…