Zainab Jagani

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

121 karma pts

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“Peanut Butter and Jelly” by Zainab Jagani

Submitted to Contest #53

Prashant starts to look like a cute plump watermelon as the melting, crimson cherry-flavored popsicle dripping prevails over his green and black polka-dotted shirt. However, he was too busy to take awareness because he was too distracted by the harbor surrounding him. The North seagulls express their solitude by making the noise ‘Qaah, qaah’, due to the separation committed by the migration of the mother birds to the South. The turquoise waves caress the beige grainy sand while fizzing, departing leaving a wet imprint of fading waters. ...

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“Rest in peace” by Zainab Jagani

Submitted to Contest #51

Rest in peace, that’s what flowed through me as I laid in Shavasana (the corpse pose). My favorite and most soothing yoga pose. The relief was neither in the inhale nor the exhale, it was actually after the exhale, the pause before the next deep inhale made me feel like I was in another realm connected to my higher self with utmost potential. At that moment I felt harmony with the rest of the universe. The purple mat I was on, rested on the white tiled floor which was also accompanied by other breathing souls. It truly felt like I was an int...

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“White Gold” by Zainab Jagani

Submitted to Contest #48

Her rocking chair creaks as she pierces the needle through the white lily petal making a flower crown for all of her grandchildren. Her sweet lavender scent has overtaken any other smell in my house. Her face is as smooth as a new pot in the process of being made in a pottery wheel, making anyone forget she was a ninety-year-old woman. The sun falls on her silver curls flawlessly and her laugh tickles mine to join her in unison. That’s my observation of my grandmother, however, the townsfolk see her as a dead lady and her granddaughter as ...

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“Be a river” by Zainab Jagani

Submitted to Contest #45

I run through the bright, breezy meadow as a crisp orangeleaf falls by me on the way to the train station, while stepping on eachdead leaf with my dark brown one inch heeled slightly dusty boots grasping asmuch as fulfillment I can acquire from the noise. “Maliyaaa! Don’t you thinkyou’re a bit too old for that?” scoffs Azher. I almost immediately shootdaggers at him to catch him abruptly look away and pretend to play with hishair. I’ve known Azher since Nursery, but we never found it necessary tocommunicate until university where we were the...

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Author bio

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