The lady in the water tank

I saw her float in the air and crawl over the high parapet, clawing the cemented walls aiming at her haven-the black overhead tank. Her shabby dreadlocks sweeping all the dried jasmine leaves on the terrace’s floor. Her skanky gown always followed her obediently throughout the journey. Her hands were disgustingly long and wrinkled. Those… Continue reading The lady in the water tank