Cotton

She sat crosslegged on the porch, watching the morning mist lift. With a lick and a wink, sunlight leapt across the expanse of white before her. But its warmth eluded her as she shivered, contemplating her task. Infinite black seeds infested the virgin cotton like the maggots embedded within herself: waiting, waiting to be plucked.


-by Roohi Choudry