DAR, 1982
Christos’s briefcase flops open. A flock of papers bursts from it and scatters in the wind. He shakes his head, forgetting the door. He starts collecting the papers one by one.
Nailah put on her blouse, pushing her hair back. She speeds from the room. Rayhan is nowhere to be seen.
Latricia exhales deeply. She hadn’t realized she was holding a breath.
The bedroom door opens and Nailah comes out, calling her husband. Christos turns. Latricia expected a smile— she can’t see. Nailah helps her husband collecting the papers. Christos closed the briefcase and walked inside, trailed by Nailah. Well, maybe next time.
Latricia threw the binoculars on the couch and stretched. She jumped on the other couch. Her obsidian-black hair swooped over her shoulders. Dimples decorated her glossy
