Tag Archives: Jessica (Tyner) Mehta

You picture broken necks quick as wishing bones. I didn’t know the head could hang for hours, limp and heavy as forgotten, unsqueezed washcloths. That you still had to rush them to the vet, cradle their little heads like overripe … Continue reading →

How many crows make a murder? I asked in the birdshit-covered Adirondack chairs that hovered like watchful mothers over the hotel pool. The two of us, our white skin blinding in the Mumbai sun, worked fingers over phone screens to … Continue reading →

They say women are supposed to kill themselves neatly, like good girls. Leave no mess behind so everyone else can go on with minimal disruptions. No lovers left to scrub floors, pick up brains or pour hydrogen peroxide on crusty … Continue reading →

I’ve had many affairs, but the guilt was scarce. A sticky, chewy sauce that hugged my tongue too tight— surprise! But it never ruined the deliciousness. It was, as they say, worth it. Like chocolate cake is worth each calorie, … Continue reading →

Our feet still breast- stroke towards one other. Diving into the duvet depths, sailing against pilled satin sheets nubbed and bubbled from kicking, calloused feet. I’d swim an ocean’s yawn for you, to the darkest leagues into uncharted wetness where … Continue reading →