الثلاثاء، 13 نوفمبر، 2012

(Home (by Yasmine Mohamed Saad

This isn't my home. It can't be. Where are the buildings? Where's the bakery down the street? Why don't I hear children playing around? It's dark. It's still noon, but it's dark. The clouds are heavy, looming over what used to be my home. There's smoke and dust everywhere. I can hear my footsteps; I can hear the crushed bricks crackle under my shoes.Full story

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