Creating an Islamic-American Culture
A great short story depicting the struggles of the mother-writer! Ah, I’ve been in the heroine’s place so many times!
‘It’s just a little white lie,’ he whispers into your ear. ‘You’ll finish that report after you play the game…your mom doesn’t need to know exactly when you got it done.’ You call out that you’ve finished, the video game shaking in your hand and you hold your breath and listen. When her footsteps fade down the hall you force that feeling of guilt away with an unsure smile.
He’s a little one…still young. They start out small, too.
‘So many people do this; it’s not a big deal,’ he murmurs inaudibly as you nod your head and shove the pack of cigarettes to the bottom of the drawer, hidden beneath neatly folded shirts. ‘Good, now no one needs to know and you can smoke whenever you want,’ he cheers in his unheard voice.
He’s a bit older, a bit bigger. And he accompanies you everywhere you go.
View original post 259 more words