Throne of the Crescent Moon

by Saladin Ahmed

“My apologies, Doctor. I meant only that a virtuous upbringing in one of the city’s orphan halls, where the boy could learn a trade, would—” “Would doom the boy to six nights a week of under-the-sheets upbringing by some drunken ‘Godly servant of children.’ They’d leave him alone on Prayersday. Hmph. He’d learn a trade all right.”

Only a hungry, hungry man would chop off a child’s head for a few filthy coins. So I fed him! Honey and steel, good people!”

Sideways Sayeed

O God, does not a fat old man’s happiness matter, too?

So this is old age! I’ve seen half my friends die. I say prayers at their passing, too tired to cry.