…and thank the Almighty you did not emerge from her.
(An unedited excerpt from “The daughter of no one famous”)
Under the grey fleece of sunset, the muezzin called out for Maghrib.
She hated this time of day. It was lead on her brain, oppressive and dim.
The rent money was gone.
Sakinah-bhai pulled back the decaying lace curtain to look outside. The street was still empty, Razi was nowhere to be seen.
That the rent money was gone wasn’t her only trouble, it was how it came to be ‘gone’. How would she explain it to Razi without that twit passing judgement and running off to tell her mother and sisters?
Stupid woman. Stupid woman. Her hands brushed against the tasbeeh on the sidetable. She picked it up and proceeded to thumb each prayer bead towards her. Stupid woman. Stupid woman. It’s what happens when you mix in the wrong circles. You try to impress, fit in. And you fail.
And you lose all the bloody rent money. Continue reading Character: Sakinah-bhai