Creative Writing: The Last Witness, A short story.
The Last Witness (Old Title: Ya Karim!? Can you hear me?) By Sara Baloum It was a Monday when your brother Ayman called, informing me that your mother had died. I had parked my car in the corner illegally, just far enough so I could watch my sister during her dance practice, boxed in a glass building, harshly lit from the inside. My eyes shifted nervously back and forth between my sister and the busy street for any stray cops. His name lit up my phone— 2’yman (Cousin)— and a feeling stirred, one I knew well in Gaza, but that felt distant and strange in the person I’d become since I left. While Ayman talked, memories of our home in Khan Younis tapped faintly at the edge of my mind, like a knock I never answered, and I saw us as kids in the living room. We didn’t have much. The furniture with its worn wooden curves and black leather cushions was arranged in small clusters around the coffee table, covered by a round lace tablecloth. Old rugs stretched toward the old TV, wh...
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