Short story OYSTERS shortlisted for Asian Writer Short Story Competition

Thrilled to be shortlisted for the Asian Writer Short Story Award 2012. 

My story Oysters was featured in 5 Degrees anthology and read at the launch event at Bush Theatre! 

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BUY: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Five-Degrees-Asian-Writer-Anthology/dp/0956696732

Extract of the story below: 

The restaurant was a nice Italian on Poland Street. The type that got popular by word of mouth. She wore a pink dress, with thin straps and a flared skirt. He was pleased to see her face still had the same plumpness around the cheeks. The same darting eyes and ready smile.  

He could tell she was interested by the way she watched his mouth. She took his hand. Her fingers were small and cold, holding his palm out flat; tracing  the lines. She pressed and prodded, making approving noises.

“So?” He asked, gazing at the haphazard curve of her parting and a stray grey hair the straddled between the black.

She smiled and closed his hand into a fist.

“Never been married?”

He shook his head.

“Single?”

He grinned.

“And no baggage, well,” she paused. “Maybe some hand luggage.”

She laughed; soft and escalating, asking him to join in. A glass of red wine swirled in her hand. She held it out to him. He watched the liquid cling to the sides and then took a large gulp.

They talked easily. Tumbling into conversations and then stumbling out to find they’d lost their way. Turning back, to try again. Their sentences long and winding, sometimes with no real purpose, than to feel the slow burn of the other’s full attention.

He looked around. Searching. Perhaps this was a test, and Maya would pop out of somewhere and surprise him. Then berate him. Sheena’s knees touched his under the table. She ordered oysters, not bothering to ask if he wanted them or not. When they arrived; fresh and salty, he was the first to pour one into his mouth.  

Unfinished… Read my new story…

A masala is of course a mix of things. In the culinary version it is spices that imbibe our food with a texture and tones. In music I guess hip-hop would be the closest to a masala. Art is more difficult. Perhaps modern art would be the best use of the term… Next comes the literary analogy. Books, poems and even our conversations are a masala of terms, dialects and languages. So what better title for a mix of diasporic writers each with our own voice, resonating to the same chord?

I’m pleased to that I’m included in this anthology and  its now available on Lulu for hard copies and online versions. Check it out!

WORD MASALA: Brings together widely published, finest, but grossly ignored non-resident South-Asian Diaspora authors, poets, artist and photographers.
http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/word-masala-2011/14451256?productTrackingContext=search_results/search_shelf/center/1