The House of Jasmine. Ibrahim Abdel Meguid

She never forgot Muhammad ‘Ali Shagara, who disappointed me when I wanted to put some joy into his bleeding chest. Now she was doing it again, leaving me alone and going away with the white ships. . . I must be the one who killed her. I took her from the grim hills to the wide-open universe, and when she couldn’t find other neighbors in the building, and couldn’t go out because this damned apartment is on such a high floor, she took off into the universe. She shouldn’t have done that. She was my mother. How could she leave me alone in this apartment with the bare walls? What woman would brighten up this dismal place? And how could I find her?