Melancholy by Merriam AlFuhaid

The teardrop diamond earrings hung from her ears and glistened in the electric light, a hundred reflections dancing on the wall. I have seen perfection, and it was not in the mirror.

Harsh words have been thrown against me like pebbles against a windshield. It is difficult to break all the way, to be in such divided pieces that others would try to repair them. But it’s so easy to crack. Continue reading

Seeds by Bader A. Shehab

It was prophesied thousands of years ago… Perhaps dating back to creation and immortalization, even long before Genesis itself…
The telepathic subtle emblems, graffiti on narrow alleys, worded hordes of poetry, and conjugal meetings of the great elements.
The mind would thrive on the elixir falls, where it would snow in hell, and pour lump sum of rain in the Sahara. Continue reading

“When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace.” By Bader A. Shehab

“When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace.” Jimi Hendrix

1969 Woodstock, New York – It wasn’t long after the midnight blaze, loud thuds of headache bangs in my ears, my eyes blurring began fixating on a patch of blonde hair on my crotch belonging to this random chick passed out and the dusty air whirling around the sunlit curtains across the room penetrates the cigarette burns of the old cloth. I find my away across the creaking wood floors carefully negotiating the sleeping bodies around, I myself still figuring out how I ended up here, where was I exactly, whose house is this and where was my other pair of shoes? Continue reading

Echo by Bader A. Shehab

“If you keep doing whatever it is your job requires you doing then you won’t last very long, girl.” My mother spoke on the other side of the bathroom door as I washed the blood stains off my left forearm then looked up at the mirror and addressed traumatic blows to my cheek bones, nose and lower lip. I poured some Medline into a wet towel and cleansed the rest of my wounds thoroughly. I pushed the door open and there she was still standing there with a worried look on her face, eyes glaring with horror and she held my chin pulling my face to one side and the other.  Continue reading

Mountain by Hawra’a Khalfan

The first time the police drove me home I was eighteen years old. I couldn’t be at home anymore, I couldn’t breathe in that unswerving state. It didn’t matter how hard I inhaled, I was gasping empty breaths. I carried around a wrinkled old brown bag everywhere with me. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom without it. It was an extension to my being. The more wrinkled that bag got, the more I realized that this isn’t it for me. That’s when it all started. That’s when I realized I couldn’t live that life anymore. Continue reading