Written by Malvika Hemanth
Cover art by Jessie Walker
Sometimes whilst lying down in my room, I
hear footsteps.
Of thick, muscular legs and flat-footed soles.
During these times, I can see the future or
drift into the past.
But now, as I step outside my refuge, I’m
confronted by these white walls.
Plastered with dancers, of a house on the
riverside and large frangipanis that beam
with vigour.
They crack and squeak in different octaves
and I wonder, is this a new form of
communication?
A medium for those that have travelled to
new places and those that remain confined.
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