The best quality in a human being is Helpfulness. There is a corner in my heart filled with nametags, uniforms, hairstyles, voices, eye colors, and smiles of strangers who have helped me as if their life depended on it. They don’t know me and if they once did, they surely forgot me now. But IContinue reading “Helpfulness”
Tag Archives: shortstories
The Damselflies’ Tango
A couple of days ago, I learned that Damselflies form a shape of a heart when they mate. I started contemplating about the conventional shape of a heart <3. Why is it called after a bodily organ that does not look at all like the blood pumping muscle in our bodies? Why was it notContinue reading “The Damselflies’ Tango”
Choice
I consider the most central word in life to be: CHOICE. Not love, nor hope. Not freedom, or happiness, or acceptance. Nor is it togetherness, or faith, or health. To me, the word is Choice. You always have to have a choice in life, a choice to love, or to hope for love. A choiceContinue reading “Choice”
Fire Island Scribbles -3-
A super weird piece I don’t remember writing. I hesitated in posting a piece I did not like at all, but I felt it spoke for a day or two in my life in which I had such an urge to be a girl with an Albanian name and no Albanian background fixated on signs.Continue reading “Fire Island Scribbles -3-“
Quote
Every so often, we are put in a strange situation in which there is no unquestionable difference between failing and winning. Beisan AlShafei March 29th, 2019
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”
Guiltessly Rested
When they were guilty of restlessness. And so their story took form when the years duped them to becoming adults. Duped because adult-hood is not not a sorrowful hood to reside in. They signed papers, they paid bills, they bought china plates decorated with a gilt of gold on their rims, they scheduled times toContinue reading “Guiltessly Rested”
Writer’s Block
It’s been days that I am in a “writer’s block” cove, unable to wriggle myself out. It feels damp and stuffy in here, and seriously dusty. The people in here smell like rancid sour judgements. Today is the day I flick off the guards and police of thoughts standing by this cove. Protecting all that’sContinue reading “Writer’s Block”
The Woman who Hand-painted her Wall Indigo
When I was a student, there was a ravishing woman with peculiar thin Medusa hair whom I drove past every late morning. I stopped a couple of narrow town houses down from hers to throw my garbage out, where the garbage metal containers were all huddled near each other on a clearing made before aContinue reading “The Woman who Hand-painted her Wall Indigo”
Rock Bottom
It’s past midnight now. After hours of online research with the commercial tunes of the latest Albanian hits playing from YouTube for inspiration, another good portion of my brain is officially numbed to render me calm and useless for work. I am sitting on the edge of the low windowsill with the window open, lookingContinue reading “Rock Bottom”
Beisan's Burble 