*Carpets and curtains. She dreamt of them both, not as separate entities, but as one. Throughout her existence, Afrah had been surrounded by carpets and curtains, each lending its own unique addition to the story of her life. They were always silent, never considered but ever present. She recalled the carpets in her bedroom, how soft and flat it was. Twice a year, the carpets would be taken out so they could be washed and returned. The curtains were washed every month, and Afrah remembered sitting in the middle of her room one time when both carpets and curtains were removed, and she simply stared at the barrenness of her room. Strange how something as insignificant as carpets and curtains could change the entire appearance of her bedroom. She recalled the carpets in her father's room, the plush cream color stretching from wall to wall. His curtains were white, which she remembered complaining to her mother about once. "Why can't I have white curtains as well?" she'd asked. "Bec
* Azra was a bright-eyed, polite, little eleven year old who couldn't meet anyone's eyes when she was brought to the house by Adnan. Afrah, who had been discharged three days prior, watched from her window as he drove into the house with the little girl sitting beside him. Looking at him, she still didn't know what exactly she felt. Of course she still despised what he'd done, but she didn't necessarily hate Adnan himself. Forgiving him was hard. It was probably the hardest thing she would ever learn to do. But it would be worth it if they would learn to live happily for the rest of their lives. Azra's mother had been much too happy to let her go. They had been struggling to provide for the little girl with her new husband, who was significantly less-wealthy than Adnan. Layla knew the girl would have a better future with her biological father. When she got the call from Adnan, a part of her wanted to hang up on him. But since it concerned his daughter, she'd listened to his plea a
*The drive to the beach took longer than any of them had anticipated. The weather was dry, with the heat rising to a dangerous level. Twice, they had to stop to fix a punctured tyre. "Are we there yet?" "Just a little further," he replied, wading through the traffic. "It won't be long now."They had left his uncle's house early that morning, with a picnic basket which they filled along the way. They had hoped to beat the traffic by leaving early, but even so they only managed to cover eighteen miles in an hour. By the time they finally reached the beach, it was a few minutes past noon. The sun was high up in the sky, and their shadows had disappeared underneath them. There was a small crowd gathered on the sand, which surprised him as it was a weekday. "Come," he said to her, offering his right hand while he took the basket in the other. "I know the perfect spot for us."He led her away from the crowd, keeping his hold on her tightly. He recognized the group as students from the
*"Afrah, dear?" His voice came from the stairs."Yes?" Afrah dropped the remote she had been holding and hurried in the direction of his voice.
*Afrah always liked the feel of the wind in her hair. It made her feel lighter, as though she didn't have any care in the world. There were times when she imagined a powerful gust of wind blowing through the earth and lifting her off her feet, into the oblivion which lay just beyond her reach.It was a typi
*Barely a few minutes after joining her mother in the kitchen, Afrah began to smell like the spices and seasonings she was using in the food. For this precise reason, she had chosen to leave the veil in her room, having wrapped her favorite and very casual-looking black scarf around her hair instead.
*It was a Saturday just like any other, and an ordinary man in his ordinary car had just dropped off his extraordinary daughter at the gates of his brother's house, on a very ordinary afternoon."Remember to behave yourself, Afrah," he had said to her as she looked up at the house. "Remember your manners, and don't do anything that would make me or Umma angry. Do you understand?" 
*Amina stepped into the room silently, pausing when she saw Afrah blinking at the ceiling. The latter briefly glanced at her before she resumed her pointless stare."How are you feeling?" Amina asked, moving towards her.