— Ali
First, you lose the sound of church bells (or the call to prayer, depending on your street). Then you lose the specific smell of your mother’s stove—lentils and cumin. Then you lose the ability to walk down a street without looking up at the rooftops. refugee the diary of ali ismail
Tonight, the stars are very bright. The coast guard’s light is a white dot on the horizon. It might be rescue. It might be return. I don’t know which is scarier. — Ali First, you lose the sound of
I have to close the notebook now. The water is getting higher. Tarek is handing me his left shoe. — Ali First