I know I should’t lie. For many many ethical reasons, lying is not good thing. I know. But what do you do when a kid in second year just won’t stop asking you, his super senior, out? I mean, I find that to be quite unethical. Being a cougar is NOT on my bucketlist. Continue reading
The last day of November. Parts of Sri Lanka were wrecked by a cyclone just a day ago. Continue reading
We met. We lived. We loved. Continue reading
When you choose to be oblivious because acknowledging that your world is falling apart at the seams hurts a whole lot more.
Diana Spechler | Longreads | October 2017 | 16 minutes (3,875 words)
It begins at an outdoor café while you’re working for a month in central Mexico. From one table away, you zero in on his brown forearm, the two black cuffs tattooed around it. You want to touch those cuffs, encircle his arm with your hands. Soon you’ll learn the word esposas, which means both “handcuffs” and “wives,” but today you know only polite Spanish, please-and-thank-you Spanish. You smile at him until he approaches. When he asks if you have a boyfriend, you start to cry and can’t stop. You want to explain something to him — that you loved someone the way a dog loves her owner — but the only available language is snot. He holds a cocktail napkin to your nose. “Blow,” he says. For a second, you think he’s serious. Then you laugh so…
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