Nonfiction
The Awakening of Spring in Kyoto
As the snow began to retreat from the mountain slopes of Kyoto, Japan, it was as if the earth itself sighed in relief. The frigid air, once laden with the weight of winter, grew lighter, carrying the sweet, subtle fragrance of the first cherry blossoms. It was spring’s turn to take the stage, and it did so with a gentle yet breathtaking beauty.
By Hansel Golden-Adahabout a year ago in Chapters
Monsoon’s Symphony
The sky over Kerala had been darkening for days, the heavy clouds gathering like an army on the horizon. And then, with a crash of thunder and a flash of lightning, the heavens opened, and the monsoon rains began. It was as if the earth had been holding its breath, and now it exhaled in a torrent of water that soaked the land and everything on it.
By Hansel Golden-Adahabout a year ago in Chapters
Summer’s Endless Sun
The sun blazed unrelentingly over the Sahara, its golden light transforming the desert into an almost otherworldly landscape. Dunes rose like vast ocean waves, their smooth, sweeping curves catching the sun’s rays and throwing them back into the cloudless sky. Summer in the Sahara was a test of endurance, where the heat seemed to shimmer and dance on the horizon, and the wind carried nothing but dust and memories.
By Hansel Golden-Adahabout a year ago in Chapters
The waiting room: a retrospective
Read the short story here: https://shopping-feedback.today/fiction/the-waiting-room-vu7d30ir4 When I wrote "The Waiting Room," I wanted to explore not just the uncertainty of death, but the profound sadness, shock and trauma that accompanies the sudden loss of life, specifically in this story I wanted to explore the very sad, and very real occurrence of a school shooting. At first glance, the story appears to centre around a young girl, Clara, simply waiting for a routine doctor’s appointment. But I wanted to subtly layer in the true nature of the situation, letting it unfold slowly so the reader experiences the same creeping realization as Clara does.
By Mat Barnsleyabout a year ago in Chapters
Do lizards smile?
I went to London on a couple of occasions before emigrating to the United States, not because I felt a duty or need to visit the capital before leaving the country, but because it was necessary to do so as part of the emigration process to move, being where both the physician and embassy are located. I found London as a city to be a foul and repulsive place, the streets were certainly not paved with gold, but they did have plenty of brass sitting on dirty old hats which lined the thoroughfares, cardboard mountains piled just out of sight and out of view of the camera frames, and graffiti seemingly done by the dyslexic and artistically challenged victims of the English schooling system.
By Mat Barnsleyabout a year ago in Chapters
Whispers on the Skin
Her name was Lilia. Her smile as wide as her face, with bright eyes. A bit chubby, and so friendly that I honestly don’t remember seeing anything other than her face. Harley, their little white dog, is friends with mine Kaity. We sometimes pass by each other, say hello, and exchange pleasantries. Today when I saw them, the dogs started playfully bickering. I commented on the weather, and then I noticed two cute butterflies tattooed on her ankle.
By Azam Salehiabout a year ago in Chapters
The Unfathomable Dance of Existence
How unfathomable is the beauty of existence! Every roadblock, every rejection, every end and every not so plausible moment is the beginning of something new, some beautiful reality that can turn every bitter ounce of mortality into an insightful lesson learned,
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Chapters
