Hope by Bartłomiej ŚnierzyńskiThe Weight of Small Things
There is a particular silence that belongs to the mud. It is not the silence of the forest or the heavy, muffled quiet of a snow-covered field. It is a patient, waiting silence. We spend our lives looking for the grand gesture, the loud arrival,…
A Wonder Kid by Arif Hossain SayeedThe Geometry of Play
There is a particular rhythm to the streets of Old Dhaka that feels like a conversation between stone and shadow. I often find myself wandering these lanes in my mind, tracing the way the afternoon light carves out pockets of stillness amidst…
Just for fun by Leanne LindsayThe Weight of Joy
I was walking past the park this afternoon when I saw a woman trying to teach her toddler how to blow bubbles. The child was so focused, tongue poking out, hands shaking with the effort of holding the wand steady. When the first bubble finally…