A persistent breeze lifted the thin curtains, fluttering a few moments of tranquility into the turbulent day.
Susan AbulhawaDo you know, Mother, that Haj Salem was buried alive in his home? Does he tell you stories in heaven now? I wish I had had a chance to meet him. To see his toothless grin and touch his leathery skin. To beg him, as you did in your youth, for a story from our Palestine. He was over one hundred years old, Mother. To have lived so long, only to be crushed to death by a bulldozer. Is this what it means to be Palestinian?
Susan Abulhawalove is what we are about, my darling," she says. "Not even in death has our love faded, for I live in your veins.
Susan Abulhawa