HUNGRY BODIES, HUNGRIER SOULS
By Neel Anil Panicker
As the log burnt, embers crackled and lit the night sky.
Amba cupped her warm fingers against her cheeks.
Then drank the brew she’d made.
Centurion Granny was the sobriquet the street urchins had honoured her with.
She didn’t mind.
It was a promotion from ‘street kid’.
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