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Nazie’s whispers, farhiz, farhiz, before falling asleep had availed nothing—the laughing demons sneaked into Flora’s belly, pinched the baby’s bottom and pulled his ears. The sharp edge of the knife…
As a symbol of the past—all sadness and humility—my mother’s face swims up and rises before my eyes. Her eyes two black abysses, anguish peering from them; her lips moist and rosy, a smile always…