The memory of my nightmares clamored for attention—dreams of trees incinerating, of silent chasms deep in palaces, of threads being ripped savagely from their place. Beside me, the weight of the bed shifted. I squeezed my eyes shut, only to feel the brush of Amar’s lips against my cheek, the roug...
is a maudlin-riddled line most often echoed by teary-eyed heroes and snarling women. That line got me thinking about the word “had.” It feels so tactile. Possession. Haves. Have Nots. We draw all kinds of lines from “have” and “had.” Sometimes they are racial or socio-economic, with Haves and Hav...