Evil Eye

by Etaf Rum

standing at the kitchen sink, moving a sponge over a dish for what seemed like the hundredth time. She’d been sullen all week. Yara could not recall the last time Mama had sung to any of them. It seemed years since she’d danced around the house or shown any signs of happiness. “You have a beautiful voice,” Yara offered from the spot where she was drawing at the kitchen table. Mama looked up from the sink. “Thank you,” she said. “You could have been a famous singer, Mama.” Yara had been trying not to look too hard at Mama, but now she saw her mother frown. “That was my dream when I was your age.” “Really?” Yara said. “Why didn’t you?” Mama turned and stared at Yara then, a sudden coldness in her blue eyes. “My dreams died the day you were born.”

Omg