I love the texture of your hair and I wanted to tell you about it in far too many words than either you or I are comfortable with.
I stared at the row of pre-peeled and packaged tangerines sealed tightly under plastic wrap.
Let me cut out your mother’s tongue and lay it down beside you like my mother did with mine.
Rank badges, small bags, books, diaries, notebooks, files… That’s when it caught Razeen’s eye: a weathered, dusty old envelope bearing a faint, unrecognisable logo.
The wish itself was pretty mediocre and commonplace, a mundane fantasy to escape the mundane.
“Extra ghugni, no chilis,” he confirmed, his cyber-enhanced eyes ever judging.
Leo had just finished his painting. He took a few steps away from the canvas to have a better look – a lady standing on a landscape with a pale smile.
