I love the texture of your hair and I wanted to tell you about it in far too many words than either you or I are comfortable with.
I stared at the row of pre-peeled and packaged tangerines sealed tightly under plastic wrap.
Let me cut out your mother’s tongue and lay it down beside you like my mother did with mine.
Rank badges, small bags, books, diaries, notebooks, files… That’s when it caught Razeen’s eye: a weathered, dusty old envelope bearing a faint, unrecognisable logo.
You know those instances when we start off in the wide, turbulent currents of a river making its way downstream?
Grief is a lonely river, like a fisherman's song with an empty net
If they knew, your mother would have said, “It’s in your head, darling,” and your father would have screamed, “Put that head in the toilet bowl where it belongs.”
An Eid special edition of Rising Star's monthly comic strip.
Lighting struck everywhere. Amidst the enchanted woods, the howls of wolves echoed with a joyous "Awoo!".
Today, I am covered in lines. Rust from the rain, and the occasional overflowing water from the drain paint my feet in unchangeable colours.
