I lie prostrate on my bed, my whole body engrossed in the act of waiting. Idle hands trace patterns on my quilt while listening in to the conversation going on in the living room. My room is dark and quiet. I try to pace my stuttered breathing with the ticking of the hands of the … Continue reading Dad, the misnomer
You know when you are stuck in traffic and you look at the window and the women in the matatu beside yours just arrests you with her beauty? You feel this knot in your intestines, you smile it off. The matatu starts moving and the knowledge that you'll never see her again makes you uneasy. … Continue reading I don’t know if I’m gay.