Redemptive Readings | Apoorva Yadav

THE FEM

She shuts herself in her bolthole to cry. No, to howl, yet again.

Her blank CV stares back at her. Name, Address, Phone Number. No worthwhile internships, publications, workshops, skillset…nothing. The document that was supposed to be an inventory of achievements was no more than an ID proof. She would have nothing to write in the Statement of Purpose either. She couldn’t prattle on about something she neither had nor was even close to figuring out.

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