Be melting snow. Wash yourself of yourself. A white flower grows in the quietness. Let your tongue become that flower. —Jalaluddin Rumi At the end of this sentence, rain will begin. At the rain’s edge, a sail. Slowly the sail will lose sight of islands; into a mist will go the belief in harbours of an entire race. —Derek Walcott Note: Masturah Alatas, a Singapore-born writer and teacher who lives in Italy, has written a children’s story that is not just for children. Clever grown-ups may have to reflect on what is put there for...Read More
Author: Masturah Alatas
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