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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & Owner
Ray Rasmussen, General Editor

Volume 13, Number 2, June 2019

Shernaz Wadia
Pune, Maharashtra, India


 Her pathetic whisper smoulders in my ears: “I try to step out of the inner chaos, searching for a slippery something; and then duck back into the false safety of solitariness. There is no escape in anything external either. I am doomed to live in this darkness.”  

I see her shrink. She is terrified at the gaggle of confounding voices in her head; frantic, her mind flails for a ray of sanity.  

eyes straining
for a glimpse of kangaroos
along the drive
all we see
are dead joeys  

Will her misery find resolution? Is that “something” tangible? She says she had glimpsed it in the hills . . . in their enfolding peace; it flirted with her in childhood, under the shimmering village sky as the moon wooed her slyly.

We are lost now in the cityscape—the stars, the moon and I. Her voice quivers again in desperation; she shudders—I must find that thing.  

a frayed net
the lone fisherman
wades further
into the dark water



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