rani Jayakumar
Bio
Writing, art, mindfulness, environment, music
Stories (2/0)
What else?
“My eyes aren’t working, can you do this?” My grandmother held the needle and the yarn out to me. We were sewing up the edge of a set of gloves we had made together. First, we had made a thick shawl from the striped blue, white, and tan yarn, using a special but complicated bobble pattern to give it extra coziness. Then we made a hat with a ruffled rim. Finally, we made a pair of mittens, to complete the set. They were just right for cold winters. She looked them over through her thick bifocals, her lips in a serious frown, then gave a small smile of satisfaction, and folded them over to me.
By rani Jayakumar3 years ago in Lifehack
True Colors
When Sienna was born, she was merely yellow-brown. Her furless skin matched the rough clay of the canyon walls where her family lived, and as she toddled, naked, it was nearly impossible to find her. Slowly, as she grew in the warm sunlight of the canyon, the sun’s rays turned her skin to a golden, rich caramel-like color, and her fur grew in to match. It was then that she was named - Sienna, a lush burnt orange that glowed with each sunset and sunrise. She could be found teetering on a ledge, much to her parents’ dismay, when the first morning rays hit, raising her tiny spindly arms upward.
By rani Jayakumar3 years ago in Fiction