This dining room was the busiest area in my parents’ home,

fresh food prepared daily in case visitors stop by after work;

“The hungry and curious taking advantage of her weakness,”

father complained about mother who needed the company

especially after intense chemo and radiation treatments.

I sneak a look at father, solid like iron, I avert my eyes

to the entry door; ceramic garlic and metal horseshoe charms

fixed around the frame, “Close to thirty-years keeping Jinn

spirits from our bodies,” he said. They didn’t help her. . .

cultural superstition bullshit…I expect more from you, Father.

The pain of knowing how unnoticed he was as a caregiver

drew him to the unseen God, dominating his thoughts, not

people; complaining about the dirty condition of his house,

personal hygiene, eating habits. “I don’t open the door…”

By Michal Mahgerefteh

From: United States

Website: http://www.mitak-art.com