Tag Archives: Mitali Singh

In the end there are scales

I’ve spent days in this market, counting the scales of the fish. Every time you hooked one out, I would apologize into thin air and talk to the wells. When you left, I visited the little man’s corner house Every … Continue reading

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Before hibernation

The lark and squirrel burrow in quiet preparation, feasting underneath the light of the midwinter moon. There’s a buzz in the air I haven’t heard before, the forest screaming back at the rain. Like one. Naked and pressed against the … Continue reading

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