Before the sun rises the loneliness eats me, in a nostalgic, delicious kind of way. I assume it was the jet lag in Sri Lanka that will forever resonate with me, that pre-dawn quiet of knowing absolutely nothing about where you are, what you will do, who you even are.I remember waking up that first… Continue reading On not sleeping
Tag: short story
On interrupting
When I was 11 my mother moved us to Jordan for a year, where she enrolled me in private school and allowed my teachers to fail me as long as they also helped me learn to read and write in Arabic. She spent every spare moment trying to enrich my experience in a place I… Continue reading On interrupting
On parents
The mortality and death of one, instantly highlights the limitations and finality of the other. My mother’s actions and presence are a constant taunting reminder of the way time passes unnoticed and one day will sweep her away into memory. Her mothering is ever present in the lacking space of my fathering, and it puffs… Continue reading On parents
Garbanzo Bae 