The smell of the cinema

Our mother closed the door because we do not know how to return if we go out. She turned the key in the black lock, and took it out with the same lightness with which she returned to the kitchen the beauty before eating, and with the management befitting a housewife like her. She did this with a purpose we only discovered after we forgot its weight and the place where it was kept. She kept it until a time forced us to get used to it as we got used to her, and to obey her as a member who has become feminine through connection, or as something we played with during the cradle stage, biting it, and rubbing it on our gums during the teething season. We learned from her caution to look at it, while in her hand, as a sixth finger that grew for her to hold us tightly so we wouldn’t get lost, like our brothers who went away, and like our father who is no longer here. Author: Nizar Abdul Sattar Publisher: Yustaroon for Publishing and Distribution Number of pages: 112