Morrison’s Stars “When was the last time when you’d see the stars this closely?” The unanswered question floated a little longer than the tears of the little girl who held the answer in her tight lipped, sheep countenance. She looked fragile, as if a touch could bring her down into pieces; like her whole existence was a delica…

There's something about train rides in India. Especially if you get a second tier, sleeper seat for a long journey across the Indian states. It isn't the posh luxury of crystal clean compartments or extra sanitized door knobs nor the company of elite people with a silver spoon stuck right up their bottoms but the way you wi…

The Tiara by Shanaya Stephens Summer in Seattle is a must to die for. The air having its own balance of chill and heat, lavish l y sweeping off the streets and wide pavements as it enters the chambers of Marvin Mansion; through the unclosed windows who acknowledge its arrival with a shitter-shatter of their constituent wooden arms…

The Polaroid- A short story The Polaroid by Shanaya Stephens Saturday nights aren’t my kind of fun. Amidst the subtle parties and endless bouts of wines and drugs, the glimmering dance floor serves too many sins on a platter. Unasked, uninvited, every moment spent on the dance floor is an open-end invitation to a string of one nig…