Somenath Sen
Stories (6/0)
Tides of Time
Truly Jason might not have offed himself. Of course, we as a whole knew the measurements about college understudies destroying themselves while seeking after impasse rip off degrees. " My age won't ever have the way of life yours has. child of post-war America outings to Greece or Rome. Stream travels on the Danube. We're caught in impasse occupations, for my situation director of the odds and ends shop close to the air terminal. You know the one. Individuals coming in the entire day subsequent to getting off a flight, coming from places we won't ever go. Around evening time, the destitute stray in for warmth, gloves without any fingers going after anything they can bear to eat with their skillet, dealing with the consequences of the day."
By Somenath Sen5 months ago in History
Shadows of Memory...
The pulse within the womb resonates loudly - akin to a church bell's resounding toll, awakening the entire town. It pounded swiftly, carrying warmth as blood coursed through me. The muffled, gentle sound imprinted itself within my mind. Before contractions began, my world was bathed in a pinkish-orange glow that filtered through the belly. The squeezing and pushing followed, accompanied by the inaugural sensation of pain - ecstatic, like a dance of flames in motion. The light overwhelmed my vision, cold seeping into my skin, enveloping me in shivers.
By Somenath Sen8 months ago in Horror
In Search of Lost Identity
Affection — whether romantic, self-directed, or otherwise — possesses a mischievous nature. In a matter of idle weeks, one can forfeit their essence, fragmenting into shards as the sun completes its daily arc. Engaging in a state of autopilot is futile; the ebbs, flows, starts, and halts inherent in nurturing affection cannot be disregarded. Vigilance and intent are prerequisites; otherwise, love's grip may erode. The decline is not swift but gradual, and awakening brings confusion, desolation, and disorientation.
By Somenath Sen8 months ago in Humans