AMAL
I wake up at around Maghrib time––obviously, I did set up alarms to wake up for Zuhr and Asr but slept again.
I decide that I hate this routine. I feel so useless, looking outside to find that it’s almost dark and having done nothing all day except for wasting time sleeping.
I pad over to the bathroom, wearing a night suit that I usually wear under my jilbab. Freshening up, I feel much better.
My stomach growls and I pat it. What now?
It feels weird staying at someone’s house and then just going ahead and asking for food. Or anything, for that matter.
Still, food is a universal need and I’d be damned to let my pride get in the way. Dressing up in the usual, I unlock the latch and open the door.
“Oh, Amal!” Phopho gushes, also coming out of her bedroom which, by the way, is righ
