John Sequeira

I heard his footsteps before I saw him down the empty road. The stars were in the sky and a half moon shined. On the footpath, I had already spread out the rug. I had also scolded my wife again for the torn pillow that she hadn’t stitched during the day. She was busy, she said, because there were more rags to pick than usual. She wasn’t sleeping on any pillow, she complained. I ignored. The night