January 23, 2017

"Look, Mommy is sleeping," said the boy. "She's tired from doing all our things again." He dawdled in a stream of the last sun for that day and watched his father roll tenderly back her eyelids, lay his ear softly to her breast, test the delicate bones of her wrist. Th...

The first time I saw my father cry was when I was in eighth grade. We were watching an old Bollywood movie, and I was fidgeting for the end so I could put on my own choice of entertainment. I don’t remember what it was about per se; there was something to do with court...

Please reload

© 2019 Rag Queen Periodical  website  designed by M. Perle Tahat