Fifi Ahmed

Fifi Ahmed

The author aspires to become an accomplished writer someday.

Be it Parachinar or Quetta, when blood starts flowing like rain water down our drains, it is time to reflect

He could smell burning flesh. He looked down in horror to see deep lacerations on his legs. Ears ringing, he struggled to get up. The piercing pain in his legs made him scream and he slipped back onto the pavement. There was chaos all around him. He looked around scouting for a familiar face but the air was thick with smoke. He tried shouting for help but nothing came out. He felt something cold trickling down his side. Surprised, he looked down at his abdomen. With the warm gushes of blood, there flowed a steady stream of green chutney, leaking from the ...

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