Dirge
/…had become dehydrated. Trees poured out saffron. Brittle straws clung to mother earth, there was a stream of orange lawn. The soil was made of sand. It caved in and became hollow. A hole in the soil where I slept in awakening. I felt nothing first. Then a hunger rose. I ate my hunger, I walked in a dream. Dream of life. There was silence in my heart. It whispered an autumnal dirge, there was a war. And I was a wounded…
By Mehreen Ahmed
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