Hura after January 25th When will it be that a generation has its baksheesh not as some grudging gineh tossed into a palm but as a sweet freedom dripping off of kunafa. A huriya lingering and sticky, smothering old bitterness, [...]
He butters my bread on both sides.
With rain in hair, qahwa in belly and the cardamom still coating the insides of our noses, Cairo soaked through my shoes, socks and skin. Done in by puddle misjudgment, who-knows-what solutes were beginning to squat under my toenails from [...]
The rinsing through of passing years puts a fair amount of stretch and fade in to the spaces between mistakes. Just three more minutes on this cycle and you will never have happened.
Food, friends, family; A full house makes for a big home.