by Maryam Khamesi
We had moved to a cul-de-sac, wedged between a couple who gifted us Bibles for Christmas and dressed their children like porcelain dolls and a neighbor who lived on his rocking chair, observing the street as God. Continue reading
by Maryam Khamesi
We had moved to a cul-de-sac, wedged between a couple who gifted us Bibles for Christmas and dressed their children like porcelain dolls and a neighbor who lived on his rocking chair, observing the street as God. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction