I'm Not Somebody Who Plans My Life.

India Lives In Several Centuries At The Same Time. Every Night Outside My House I Pass A Road Gang Of Emaciated Laborers Digging A Trench To Lay Fiber Optic Cables To Speed Up Digital Revolution. They Work By The Light Of A Few Candles.

The Uid Is A Corporate Scam Which Funnels Billions Of Dollars Into The It Sector

Smells, Like Music, Hold Memories. She Breathed Deep, And Bottled It Up For Posterity.

A Sparrow Lay Dead On The Backseat. She Had Found Her Way Through A Hole In The Windscreen, Tempted By Some Seat-sponge For Her Nest. She Never Found Her Way Out. No One Noticed Her Panicked Car-window Appeals. She Died On The Backseat, With Her Legs In The Air. Like A Joke.

Some Things Come With Their Own Punishments.