7th February 2015
There was something taped to the door when Ali got home from work, and for a brief moment a cold panic seized his heart in an icy fist before he stepped through the gate, and saw Yazid’s thick, looping handwriting. An envelope.
He plucked it free before unlocking the door, and turned it over to open as he shouldered his way into the hall. “I’m home!” he yelled on reflex before slipping the card free and smiling. It was a standard Hallmark anniversary card, but—in Yazid’s usual crazy manner—for my beautiful girlfriend with the girl crossed out in black ink and a lot of question marks dotted around it. Ali flipped it open, and a shower of paper love hearts spiralled free and drifted lazily to the floor. “You’re cleaning that up!” he shouted.
“What’s that, babe?”
“I said
