Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
I stopped being a child at the age of ten. The age when I learned that my armpits, like my intimate parts, must be hidden from the public eye. But of course, my armpits are much more inconvenient to hide, especially in a tropical country. I remember each moment I Read more
I can’t remember where I was when Father got home that day. Probably, I was somewhere inside the house; maybe I was in the living room. Maybe sitting cross-legged on the dingy, frayed oriental rug that had tufts of cat and dog and probably human hair tangled in its tassels Read more