Sayantan Halder

Sayantan Halder is from India, the beautiful land full of colours, art, mythology, stories, traditions, celebrations and music. He gets inspiration from every little thing, and likes to express them through his artistic way. Sayantan Halder is working as an illustrator and doing freelancing for lots of publications like Penguin, Rupa, etc.

Graduating in animation from the National Institute of Design (NID), he has also been working in animation and the interactive games design field. He works in different styles, both traditionally and digitally. You can visit his blog to check out his work:

Stories illustrated by Sayantan Halder

Glass Eye

Written by Andrés Felipe Hernández

After all, life gave birth to a glass eye, naming it home… Vacant, full of noise is the Eye, picturing no more than diluted silhouettes painting lips to my soul so the masquerade could imbibe them in a kiss; one red, fresh, one, of my desire becoming the flesh. No more, pictures the Eye, than the …

At the Seams

Written by FJ Morris

He found me in near-mint condition, left on the hanger. I wasn’t looking for a home, just the odd wardrobe change. But he folded me up in his arms, ironed me out with warmth and sewed up my tears. I stretched over his chest, close to his heart, protecting him from the cold. But the wringer …

Between First and Final Breath

Written by Kathryn Ross

The first thing Miguel became aware of was the blistering sun on his cracked lips. He could feel the great white eye of the earth staring at him, taunting him to fully wake and confirm that his recurrent nightmare had once again followed him into morning. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly, taking in …

The Submariner

Written by Stephen Cooper

It was just a watch. He had to forget about it. Stop ruminating about what’d happened and move on with his damn life already. But he couldn’t. Because each time he passed the storefront to get to his apartment he’d see that damn Sylvio. He tried not looking, just scooting by, opening the door to …


Written by David Hammond

The bell above the door rings as Fran enters the small store wearing a purse over her shoulder. She approaches the counter, and Steve, who has been leaning on the counter with his chin cupped in his hand, straightens up, looking mildly surprised. “Good morning,” says Fran. “Mornin’.” “I’d like to buy something, please.” Steve looks vaguely around …

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