Wanderink

Talking buffaloes and spying goats

A flurry of ringing at the door. Nobody has been in such a hurry to feed me ever since I left home. It was Vishnu. A baldpate Vishnu. And I was ready to fist a rando. I didn’t know what to ask first: what’s gotten into your head? Or, what’s gotten into your head? Vishnu […]