Apr 24
My Library
My books remain on the shelves as I left them last year, but all the words have died. I search for my favorite book, Out of Place. I find it lying lonely in a drawer, next to the photo album and my old Nokia phone.
The pen inside the book is still intact, but some ink drops have leaked. Some words breathe its ink, the pen like a ventilator for a dozen patients:
Home, Jerusalem, the sea, Haifa, the rock, the oranges, the sand, the pigeon, Cairo, my mother, Beirut, books, the rock, the sea, the sea.
