1 At one point in my life, things had become so monotonous it was becoming hard to tell the days apart. I woke up every morning, went to work at the bank, fastened elastic bands around wads of money, came home, had lunch and dinner and went to bed to wait for morning to come. […]

1 One fine day, it was. The sky a perfect shade of blue, trees a perfect shade of green, hydrants a perfect shade of red and her brand new Reeboks a perfect shade of pink. She had enough lip gloss on to make a car shine, enough fruit-smelling perfume to be detected a mile away.

Ok this is actually a ‘novel’, my first, really, but due to techincal problems i can only post this chapter. Others shall follow soon, inshallah, and in about ahundred years I might even be able to post the whole thing. This is chapter 4. Dishes It was my strong belief that dishes had been introduced

1 Standing in the middle of the road, his sunglasses reflecting the passing clouds in the sky and cars on the street, his felt cap perched at just the right angle upon his head, his boots blackened and shining in the sun, he stares at the passing traffic, fingering the wireless radio attached to his

1 It’s a good thing Ibrahim is an early riser by nature, otherwise this job would’ve been a whole lot harder than it is. He doesn’t remember the last time he woke up to a shining sun; he always beats it to it. It’s a little harder in winters, ‘cause he’d be all stiff around

Ahmed steps out of the house, straightening his attire and rubbing his shoes, each in turn, against the back of his trouser-legs in a desperate effort to make them shine. He breathes in the fresh morning air and looks around him at his fellow early risers; the birds twittering together among the tree branches; a