Half in pain, half numb, half awake, half alive, Zain heard somebody’s voice. It was her own voice. She heard herself reciting something. But what was it? What had she been blabbering about?
Whatever it was, she kept on, and couldn’t shut herself up.
She opened her eyes. She saw a strange face. Oh my God.
It’s the doctor. She saw another face. The nurse is gawking at me in horror as though she just saw a landmine right in her path. Apparently I’m not a boulder anymore, since I see now that I’ve been raving deliriously and need to be quiet. But no: I’m not going to shut my mouth anymore. I’m going to say I’m in pain, that I’m miserable, defeated, and disillusioned. So, is it over yet?
Zain tried to get down off the operating table, but nearly fell, so the nurse helped her.
“Things went
