Dewey Decimal Courtship
Before the aged librarian begins to read a book not read before he inhales, he exhales with utmost tranquility he lets his fingers tiptoe lightly on its luscious spine, as […]
Before the aged librarian begins to read a book not read before he inhales, he exhales with utmost tranquility he lets his fingers tiptoe lightly on its luscious spine, as […]
This text was found in the aged librarian’s desk (postmortem), the handwriting was not that of the librarian but scribbled in green ink by an anonymous feminine hand. Somewhere In […]
The aged librarian never gazes into mirrors; he has ceased to search for liver-spots, and he doesn’t need to know how much his skin has ceased to tightly wrap his […]
Afterwards when all went silent; after words turned ash, the last remaining pillar fell and mortar crumbled into dust, the aged librarian mumbled verses from his dying books turned skyward, […]
The zealous soldiers came at last with kerosene at dusk, in search of the forbidden books, in search of manuscripts and dreams. Dressed in black, they didn’t even ring the […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis