“And today is no different”, she said. Like a mathematical assumption, let the girl be X. Let her be X because I really do not know her name, or what she liked herself to be addressed in. She sat there on the lonely bench, holding a copy of The Liar’s Weave by Tashan Mehta. Intrigued… Continue reading BEHiND THE VEiL
BEHiND THE VEiL
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