Angalee Fernando
Bio
"I'm an average nobody" - Henry Hill, and my heart
☎️ @kirikidding
Stories (38/0)
2024 Vocal Forecast: Year of the Writer
Streptococcus Thermophilus by Dennis Kunkel Microscopy | A strain of probiotic bacteria used as a starter in yogurt. Probiotics are very popular in the health market today and consumers are highly encouraged to become more cultured.
By Angalee Fernando4 months ago in Writers
take away
His mother Standing in the recessed wall of the eightfoot window, letting the thin March sun warm his bony shoulders, the boy's image went back to their home in Settignano, overlooking the valley of the Arno, when his mother had been alive. Then there had been love and laughter; but his mother had died when he was six, and his father had retreated in despair into the encampment of his study. For four years while his aunt Cassandra had taken over the care of the household, Michelangelo had been lonely and unwanted except by his grandmother, Monna Alessandra, who lived with them, and the stonecutter's family across the hill, the stonecutter's wife having suckled him when his own mother had been too ill to
By Angalee Fernando6 months ago in Poets
NYR 01: Ethical Farming
In our junior year of high school, we had to read Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma. One night, it was the end of the week, when I customarily crammed my English homework and tried to hold on to a dangling C. Likewise, I ended up simmering over the pages instead, affectionately typing up my assignment as if I was in for the Nobel, and losing the grade because the work was uncommentedly ‘great’, but turned in wayyy too late. Whatever, what counted at the end of the day were not the points, but the pigs. Yes, sweet little pigs on the literary petri dish. Pollan’s steely chapter about their psychological scarring in factory farms was, how do I say? Not easily forgotten. That following Saturday morning my mother had set out a ghoulishly pink pound of pork loin to thaw for lunch… my stomach took a triple axel, and I stopped eating for three days.
By Angalee Fernando6 months ago in Earth
Journey to Iris
Have you been acting sunny? Do you know where you are, honey? The sky sang to Varvara through a halo of sol. The jukebox ballad echoed, echoed. Her consciousness went dark, and an invisible singer took spotlight in this visceral midnight. Synth drums rolled up decibels, notes of a cocktail piano flew off like butterflies, and other such dreamy harmonics cradled her.
By Angalee Fernando6 months ago in Fiction