Monthly Archives: October 2012

After two weeks on the run, I am beginning to smell. Miraculously, three young people (two girls and a boy) pick me up on some country road and take me to a swimming hole. Naturally, I am astounded at their nakedness.

I choose a group of trees close to the highway and look for a piece of ground without light. In the darkness I rake together a pile of leaves and crawl inside. I listen through my knees to the cold. For the moonless traffic. For the sounds of any intruder. … Continue reading →

By now, I'll be walking between the great orange trees of New York. I'll be skipping over five storey shop rooves in Paris. I'll be boarding the ferry to the Chinese mainland. I am the semblance of a purple ticket. I am under the … Continue reading →

I show my new passport to Ahmed and he just laughs. He can't get over my hairstyle, my new persona. "But this is the truth!" he exclaims. Later on he informs me: "The upshot of democracy is that the very few will end … Continue reading →

Even if my entire family is not dead (I heard they may have been released!) my name is still Tarik. I'd hoped to change my name to Uda, but since I have been taken into the heart of the most noble Ashtuk clan there is no … Continue reading →

So fast we disappear.

My name is Tarik. Tomorrow… I write from another room in another town. Tomorrow, I will have moose coloured hair. I will be thirty three years old and unmusical. Boo Boo? What are you doing now? "I'm humming," I imagine her saying. I'm sorry. … Continue reading →

Autumn days drag so slowly by. Which is why God invented the 50cc Honda step-through motorcycle.

I walk on tiptoes through the house to save the heels of my jeans from fraying. In one room, Boo Boo is switching channels like it's a game. In another, Mum is rearranging paintings. I stop at the door. Dad … Continue reading →

My Dad is German, God bless him. If not punk exactly, my guess is he brought with him some decidedly un-Arabic element to our country. Nevertheless, he converted to Islam, I suppose because he loved my mother. To convert for love is … Continue reading →