A Corpse

Qaisar Bashir   A corpse! Where? Across the stream–where? I don’t see it. Blind horse! What? The corpse. There!… Under the walnut tree. Accident, murder? Murder… You think so? Bullet shells… They’re not bullet shells. True, it’s the brain–scattered and crushed like ripe mulberries. I don’t understand… Tell me more! … Read more →