27:19

in my mind, it plays like this:

its dark. things hiding in the air.

am empty puppet with a little shiny triangle in his hand.

looks up from the fly in his net.

sees our little family, happy in our little pool of light.

comes shrieking towards us with beserk rage, hungry, clawing

i scream

clutch my baby closer. cower under the flimsy flimsy door. praying he will miss us.

a blast of light.

was it something i did right?

was it the prayers? mine or my mothers?

was it the sadqa lying in a little box to be given away?

was it my thought - give it to that little boy zeeshan. when zeeshan said, i'll give it later, i thought - let the onus be on you then sir. go with God.

was it just Allah having mercy.

it was just that - a flip of a coin. a shot fired. a shot unfired. something stopped him that second. wasn't his humanity. wasn't his fear. wasn't his uncertainity. wasn't our tinted windows. wasn't zeeshan's army jacket. wasn't a glimpse of a baby. wasn't my scream. something. that can only be. God.

thank you.

ashkura.