Essays
Notes on Clifton, Block 2
by Eman Farhan
Tonight, a pack of dogs is howling at the moon. This neighborhood is teeming with them; every corner you turn, you’ll see a dog standing there. Beautiful, brown and black fur with white spots. Noses that are always wet. Their eyes all look like my brother’s.
The Streets Are Not for Me
by Sundus Saqib
I didn’t know where I was going; it wasn’t a planned liberation. After walking aimlessly for a few minutes, I halted in front of a small park. It was midafternoon and the park was completely deserted, as were the roads. The choking summer heat had forced everyone inside while it had compelled me to do the opposite.
Ports
by Bassam Sidiki
On the day of my diagnosis in Kalamazoo, they whisked me away from my mother’s unrelenting hands on a wheelchair, even though I felt perfectly capable of walking.
After Winter
by Samee Ahmad
When I was a child, he delivered a solemn sermon at the blue tiled mosque every week. Later, we piled into the car, we picked up his friends and drove to Shah Jamal.
The Money Plant
by Tabinda Khurshid
It has been more than 15 years now that I have been living on my own. One particular plant that has been recommended to me multiple times is the Epipremnum aureum, more commonly known as Pothos or Devil’s Ivy.
The Road to Closure
by Roha Arif
I remember my attention zeroing in on my thumbs and feeling relief. I loved that they were more square than round on the edge, and my siblings usually teased me about that