Glissade

The language of love is cliched. The language of marriage, the institution of love, is also cliched.

1. It’s midnight. I’m sitting on the veranda drinking cardamom coffee, trying hard not to call Chris. “Don’t call him and accuse him,” my therapist says. “That will only make things worse.” She suggests filling my mouth with water and keeping it there. “Bite your tongue if you feel you might say something that will …

The township is a place of unity. People rescue and aid each other for they’ve subscribed to the adage that a hand washes the other. One hand cannot properly wash itself. Urgent meetings and funeral attendances are occasions where this unity is witnessed. The residents know one another and one another’s affairs, unlike in the …

ISSUES

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