My photo

Writer, Father. Entrepreneur. Bum. Atheist. Recluse. Garhwali. Foodie. Downloader. Drifter. In no particular order.


halloween night

The flock of ghosts wheeled over the street before settling like ash over the window sills that jutted out in a rather disheveled way. The pigeons crooned softly, like whores who can't help enjoying their work hours. The dark beads of their eyes surveyed the neighbourhood furtively, and not noticing any perceptible change, they buried their necks deeper into their breasts. Did you know that you could extend your life by eating death, through murder and by inflicting pain? Only it won't be life life, just a semblance of it. Ah, but I digress. There is to be a feast tonight. That's what the ghosts are here for, bloody voyeurs. After all, it's halloween.