Journey of the Magi

Journey of the Magi

My eyelids fly open as a stool crashes to the floor, sending charts swirling down and skittering past my feet. My father stands at the window, rubs his eyes, looks again. “Nima! Nima, look!” He points with one hand, gestures wildly with the other. “What is it?” He...
Mary

Mary

Something stirs in me. No. Someone. I rest my hand there, wait, feel nothing. “Too soon,” my mother says quietly, watching me from the corner of her eye. She looks at me as she does when she thinks I am ill – looking away without quite looking away, watching carefully...
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