Short Stories

Unseen, unheeded strands of existence. Unheard is their sound of silence. A roadside tea stall at the edge of a narrow road A roadside tea stall clung to the edge of a narrow road; its handcart blackened with years of grease and patience. The blue that was once its true color survived only along the frayed edges, thin streaks of memory resisting erasure. They gathered quietly in unnoticed corners, trying to preserve their originality. The fading light caught these subtle evid