family – Beisan's Burble

Like Wood in a Fireplace

A voice smooth and uncoiling singing to Abdulhalim, crackling when it tried to get the high notes. Like wood in a fireplace lit on a silvery blue snowy evening on the only day of the year that the country snowed. Singing waves of crumbling notes, soothing songs of white joyful lies. Songs of motherhood. LikeContinue reading “Like Wood in a Fireplace”

The Best Breadcrumbs

“Tell me about your dreams”, his mother says. She slices through a cool cucumber that seemed to have lost all its juice. He wants to say that he won’t eat this powdery mildew; that she will one day end up with a fungal disease if she lets her vegetables sit around the bottom drawer allContinue reading “The Best Breadcrumbs”

Corduroy

A story about an 11 year old boy’s small thoughts spurred by the feeling of corduroy fabric on his skin. A feeling that kept strangely and interestingly coming back in the form of memories and dreams at the age of twenty, the almost-age of fifty and his final year of nintey-two. A story that remainedContinue reading “Corduroy”

An Insomniac’s Morning Hours

When the call to prayer soundsand the sun’s about to rise,my thoughts restlessly dissectthis sorrow, that guilt, old lies. “I can’t keep up”, I say,“slow down and stop the mumbling!”But they answer with obtuse eloquence,lingering, rolling, and tumbling. How lucky I find those people,who are right now asleep.Their heartbeats slow and steady,their dreaming calm andContinue reading “An Insomniac’s Morning Hours”

The Sunken Forest

August 25th, 2014 – “That Day” / “Today” Fire Island, New York Dear H, My sentences will be long. If you are in quarantine like I am, only read this letter when you want to plunge into the abyss like we used to, where sentences are made for pure feelings, and where they lack structureContinue reading “The Sunken Forest”

Fire Island Scribbles – 1-

A dialogue about people – I like raw people – So, like, what? You like them uncooked? – …. Yes. I like them uncooked. Not even seared, not the slightest heat touching them. – Do they also have to be whole? Or can they be sliced, chopped, julienned? – The knife can have touched them,Continue reading “Fire Island Scribbles – 1-“

A Prism of Possibilities

This, today. I wish you could carve it along the walls of your home. One of the most remarkable ordinary days is occurring unreasonably. Today had no incentive to start so kindly, but it did. Something tells me that the magic of your growth is the actual source of this prismatic primitive feeling. This letterContinue reading “A Prism of Possibilities”

Bring Joy to Their Hearts

Once, upon a waning crescent moon during a spring in Khobar, Saudi Arabia, two apricot sellers wheeled their wooden carts down a long sandy curb outside of the market, a few hundred meters apart from each other. As the sun was packing to take its leave for the day, and so were the other marketContinue reading “Bring Joy to Their Hearts”