1001 Ways to Embarrass Yourself While Avoiding Injuries

Erasmus knocks on the door, three knocks, each loud and resonant. The insistence is clear- he is here for business. Inside the darkened room, she is waiting nervously chewing her pale, off-purple blanched nails. "I want you to tell me what's going on," he states in a calm voice, the tenors in his throat quivering only slightly. "I don't know, E. I don't understand why the program doesn't work." The ends of her sentences lift up as if in a question, even though it is not. She is telling him clearly, succinctly, confusedly. But honestly. "Come outside please," he says, patiently. She has a feeling that he's checking his watch, or tapping his foot. She imagines that it is the left one, going up down up down tap tap tap on the shiny waxed floor.  She opens the door, and discovers she's wrong. "Oh, I thought you. You brought the-" He raises a sparse eyebrow. She shakes her head, never mind. He's thumbing throu...

Interestingly, she did not mind having an unfairly, unconventionally beautiful family. It made no difference to her, and in fact was beneficial though she was undoubtedly pretty but it was unlike the eccentric beauty of her brothers and sister. She was proud to announce to her friends, their presence because indeed for an ordinary person the mere presence of someone beautiful who is related has a positive beatific effect on that person, who possessed less extravagant beauty. She was certain that by pointing out her sister, Simran, she would too gain some of this benevolent halo-ic effect. Perhaps the beholder would see a similarity somewhere in there- the same curve of the lips, the same hollow of the necks, the tilt of her nose. It was now then established that she too was elevated. And wonderfully, with minimal effort.

Her dreams were beautiful, they were solid and coloured vividly, as if carefully drawn by an artistic hand on the whitest, purest canvas. And they were always about America. Umrika. Oh, America. Land of Milk and Honey Freedom God Guns Bible thumpers Immigrants Emigrants Hollywood Burgers New York honey You Gotta Say it like Ya mean It Ellis Island Democrats Republicans Trump Clinton Obama You Gotta Vote Are Ya kidding' me? How d'ya werk this damn thing Eileen? Collard Greens Black Lives Matter The Latino Vote Catholics Muslims Christians Sikhs Hindus Jews Buddhists I can't say I guess I'm atheist Wow that's progressive. Umrika. The Real America was hidden somewhere outside her small bubble of posters, irascible like a fever itch in the dark nights. Sometimes the itch was so strong even after she'd thrown off blankets she'd toss and turn , slapping at the slippery sheen of sweaty skin the damp heat swelling everywhere. The Real America was not POS...

She sat on her rotting throne, Queen Gwyneth, like a crone, She grew bitter with time, Watching the joy of mine. And when one foot entered her domain, She cackled- thunder, lightning, rain! She rose from her chair, Pushed me into her lair. Wherefore art your manners, she hissed, Her beaky nose birdlike and missed my heart, luckily, narrowly, for she flung a knife, Writhing around in her robes, full of strife. Then I apologised, cowering slightly, For not calling her Queen, but she took it lightly! Her long, twisted nails, she lifted a finger, The smell of her dirty heart, doth heavily linger. I ran , the door to freedom closing fast, And when I looked, she was not there alas, And when I looked again, It was all in vain.

Ertika, Pahel. "I used to be darker, see. Do you see, Ertika? Then, I started staying indoors and reading about the Party. Kauben Wrinfida says I look much better. She says the Party really is doing me good." Ertika yawns absentmindedly. She feels vaguely disturbed by her friend's words, like something inside her is dislodged a little but she cannot reach inside her heart and place exactly what is wrong. "I really liked your colour, Pahel. You looked like my mother when she was younger and everyone said she was pretty." Pahel squirms at the compliment, both pleased and annoyed. She has always been slightly under the shadow of Ertika's goodness, Ertika's selflessness, Ertika's studiousness without her even trying. She hates the thought that Ertika is so politically correct without even meaning to be. She, the child of exiled rightists, she must try so hard to erase her father and mother's harmful legacy and prove her devotion to the Pa...

" There is only the State. If you remember nothing else, remember that. The State, the State, the State." "There is only the State. If you remember nothing else, remember that. The State, The State, The State." POLITICO revolves around two friends who grow up in the future, a dystopian totalitarian state called Malistan founded by General Kristang Malistan, who was Premier when the country was created in 2084. Malistan is officially ruled by the “Official Communist Party Of Former Independent Southeast Asian Republics”, known in short as “Stagov” or the “State Government”,  the only party allowed to exist and it has complete power. STAGOV consisted of 2 representatives from each former republic. It was made up of 5 ministries, Education, Welfare (religion, housing, healthcare, pleasure etc), Industry , Innovation and Bureaucracy. At the age of 18, the children will be given the chance to choose which industry they work in, and thus become a party member. I...

The child's loose curls doth bounce so lightly on his head, Causing a tight pain in my strange heart. Oh, how could it not! How could this babe not bring back a humorous, paining memory? It was... The Mukherjee. Tall, be-pimpled, gangly, tennis god, deep of voice, shy of girls, You-who-seemed-to-never-speak, I adored you! And that adoration translation became silence, hiding behind my fringe! My conquest of you, had, in, my mind, Failed. So I rushed for a glass of water, Oh fateful, Christmas day. The baby reminded me of future we could have had, Amit Mukherjee. Remember? Remember, with trembling hands, I beseech, Look upon my face, and the hands, which so embarrassed me. The tale I must grudgingly and happily tell. Christmas day, I had not eaten, my stomach as bare inside as the manger we didn't have, I went into the kitchen, swearing to this day, for a glass of water, WATER, If only I had just water, sipping demurely, We might be Mr and Mrs Mukherjee...

" There is only the State. If you remember nothing else, remember that. The State, the State, the State." POLITICO revolves around two friends who grow up in the future, a dystopian totalitarian state called Malistan founded by General Kristang Malistan, who was Premier when the country was created in 2084. Malistan is officially ruled by the “Official Communist Party Of Former Independent Southeast Asian Republics”, known in short as “Stagov” or the “State Government”,  the only party allowed to exist and it has complete power. STAGOV consisted of 2 representatives from each former republic. It was made up of 5 ministries, Education, Welfare (religion, housing, healthcare, pleasure etc), Industry , Innovation and Bureaucracy. At the age of 18, the children will be given the chance to choose which industry they work in, and thus become a party member. If they choose not to become a party member, they will be forced to live on the outskirts of Malistan, amongst the 'ri...