Chapter 3: The Encounter
337 Words
Amina stepped out of the mosque, her basket now empty. The air was still, punctuated only by the distant hum of the marketplace. She paused in the courtyard to adjust her dupatta, her thoughts wandering.
That was when she saw him—a tall man with blond hair and a camera slung around his neck, standing awkwardly near the fountain. His curious gaze roamed over the mosque’s architecture, his camera clicking occasionally.
“Excuse me,” she called out sharply, stepping forward. She tugged her dupatta more securely over her hair, her voice laced with annoyance. “What are you doing here?”
Ethan turned, startled. “Oh! Hi!” he said, raising a hand in an awkward wave. “This is a public place, right? Amazing architecture. Just incredible.”
“This is a mosque,” Amina replied, her tone firm. “Not a tourist attraction. You can’t just wander in like this.”
Ethan scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Right, sorry. The gate was open, and, uh… I’m a photographer. I’m Ethan, by the way.” He extended a hand.
Amina stared at his hand, incredulous. “Ethan, this is a place of worship, not a photo op. And we don’t shake hands here.”
He lowered his hand, chuckling nervously. “Got it. Sorry again.” He backed up, nearly tripping over a prayer mat left near the fountain.
Amina couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though the corner of her lips twitched. There was something oddly endearing about his awkwardness.
“You should leave,” she said, her tone softening slightly. “This isn’t the place for you.”
Ethan nodded, retreating toward the gate. But just before exiting, he turned back. “Thanks for not calling the cops. And, uh… nice pendant.”
Amina’s hand instinctively went to the crescent-shaped charm at her neck. She frowned, watching him disappear down the street. “What a strange man,” she muttered, shaking her head.
- Writer
