Post- Magazine
all that remains [narrative]
By Sona Kempner | November 5If I squint, the sky looks like a marigold, petals unfolding and unfolding, ochre staining the grey. It’s almost beautiful. Even smog and blackened asphalt, mutilated plastic and burning trash on the side of the road can have a heady glow if hot enough. We eat our aloo paratha in silence. Each piece ...
