I did a guest blog for my friend Eddie (Adeel). Even though it was a short piece, it felt like spring after a long winter because I hadn’t written any fiction for a long, long time.
There is an exquisite sort of pain in a needle prick.
And if an unsteady hand is proof of an unsteady mind, then Haya should have suffered more than one of those exquisite needlings. Indeed, when she reached for circle of cloth, with its detailed designs, her hands were shaking.
But a few tiny stitches later, her nerves had calmed down. And while her busy hands plucked and straightened, her overwrought mind also soothed and smoothed down. Even the muffled sounds of the suitcase being dragged off the top of the wardrobe did nothing to slow down her busy pace. The house was a small one, and it creaked and groaned in windy weather. It wasn’t hard to convince oneself that the sounds of drawers opening and the clunking of wooden hangers in an emptying wardrobe were not simply the house settling down and making its usual noises.
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