Lark Writes...on books and life

  How it begins:  "The call came in the deepest part of the night, the telephone's lusty urgency shattering the basement silence. P...

  From the blurb: "Through market lanes crammed with too many people, dogs, and rickshaws, past stalls that smell of cardamom and sizzl...

"I am not ascare to die. I am only ascare that after death I be alone. Maybe because of suicide, I go to the hell? If hell all hot and...