When We Were Sisters: A Novel

by Fatimah Asghar

What no one will ever understand is that the world belongs to orphans, everything becomes our mother. We’re mothered by everything because we know how to look for the mothering, because we know a mother might leave us and we’ll need another mother to step in and take its place. The tree mothering its shade. The restaurant door, propped slightly open, mothering its smell of cookies to us. The blinking walk sign, holding on long enough to mother us across the street. The sun mothering Noreen, warming her skin; the sidewalk mothering Aisha’s knee, kissing it when her body hits the pavement, a love strong enough to leave a mark. The rain, mothering us faster home. The hallway birds, mothering their cages. The hamster, mothering its wheel. All the mothers in the world reach out to the motherless.

My dad. The whole sky smiles his smile.

This is her song and hers alone, she’s only sharing it with us because there are no doors to keep us out.

My sisters, my Gods, my mirrors.