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Like all of us, we all went away, hurrying off to friends, to homework, to our little secrets, to the TV, to racing one another on our bicycles, to little quarrels in the neighborhood, while she remained there, sitting in the shade of the wall, even if she was not yet calling out, “Don’t go.”
The world waits for no one, especially not the elderly.
over the violence and harshness of childhood; over children orphaned by their mothers’ deaths and thrown out by their fathers, and over their brothers’ tragic ends; over a field she did not possess; over a companion she was never fortunate enough to have; over a son who is not hers; over the grandchildren of a friend who died before she did.
We had my mother’s fragility, and my grandmother’s fierce will; my father bringing us gifts from his travels, and Sufyan’s amusing little bouts of troublemaking.
From its hidden inner chamber the expected Mahdi was to emerge. This savior would flood the world with justice, for it had become a world of tyranny. No one knew exactly where in the shrine the vault sat.
