Varsha Kewalramani
Bio
“Horror is like a serpent; always shedding its skin, always changing. And it will always come back."
Stories (55)
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Fish haven't any Feelings
My wife walks down the hall and asks me to put my hand in her pocket. I comply. She's asking what the day has given -- more specifically "If [I] know what [I] have been given?" For all the fresh air, unlimited clothes drying on the line, and the beauty of a sand yard.
By Varsha Kewalramani3 years ago in Horror
A True Gift
I still remember the day we decorated the house. I was ten and it was two weeks before Christmas. I remember that I felt like a long journey of waiting and despair will finally come to an end. A new year was about to begin, and all of the bad memories will become the past as they never happened. I was looking forward to my presents. I was about to receive not only the gifts but also the strong feeling of being loved and cared for. Since I'm the youngest in the family, all of the family members would give me a gift one way or another. Sometimes it was a cookie or a hug but it was always there. I was the only center of attention and it was feeling good.
By Varsha Kewalramani3 years ago in Horror
The Girl and the Mouse, a Love Story
The mouse did not like the little box where it made its home. The box smelled of dust and tobacco and dirty, meaty hands, sweaty from their wanting. Wanting more money, more food, more cigarettes. The box did not smell like the honey and lemon box the girl put the mouse in before she was taken away.
By Varsha Kewalramani3 years ago in Horror
The Bibliophagist's Magic Shop
Ever since the new Wal-Mart opened by the interstate, there wasn’t much for us to do except throw rocks at the old sock factory. Someone tried to get an Anklebiter football team going, but no adult we knew had the time or inclination to volunteer—since working the night shift at Gas-N-Go takes a toll on a body.
By Varsha Kewalramani3 years ago in Horror
The Letter of Magic
Before we get started I must let you know that whenever you open the letter and read it, take the crystal and hold it in your hand flat and which ever side of it glows is where the magic power plant is. I was not able to finish the job but maybe you can.
By Varsha Kewalramani3 years ago in Horror
Maria's Transformation: From Cynicism to Cheer
As the sun began to rise over the city, Maria sat at her kitchen table, staring blankly at her half-empty cup of coffee. It was Christmas morning, and yet, she couldn't find it within herself to feel even the slightest bit of cheer.
By Varsha Kewalramani3 years ago in Horror
The Santa‐Claus Scandal
It is the night of Christmas Eve, and my family and I gather in the living room, where the walls are adorned with Christmas decorations and a Christmas tree in the corner of the room, with the glass angel as the tree topper. I’m watching the classic holiday movie, Santa Claus, featuring Tim Allen (a film that I have watched at least thirty-six times). I was around ten-year-old. My family members are sitting on the couch, telling stories. I feel a presence beside me. I look up and see my cousin Evan sitting on my left side as I rest on the thickly carpeted floor.
By Varsha Kewalramani3 years ago in Horror
