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Hope in Pink Meringue

I am greedy. I want to go back to Damascus, but I want to go back as it was before the war, before our screens were filled with its anguish, and before the tormented numbness of old men and young women shattered my sleep. Had I passed some of them in the tiled courtyards and…

The Officer

The room looked as if it could be a part of a movie set. But the dry mouth, the elevated heart rate, and the washing machine churning its way through my stomach told me that this situation was all too real. I heard the heavy wooden door close behind me as I stepped tentatively into…

The Man I Met

In my mind he’s desperate. He’s keeping the night close and walking with a lean against the bitter wind. The barest light from the old streetlamp catches him in film-noir frame as he walks past the closed-up store, and I’d love to go back and watch him doing it all over again. Until then, there’s…