Thick clouds choke the sky above McCosh Hall. A few students emerge from behind the large wooden double doors. They stop in front of the door and gaze out at the crowd of protestors gathering behind a large white fence. … Read More
“My grief ties my tongue. It makes me incapable of much more than sitting on a bench outside my dorm and crying, my hand curled around a mini cupcake. In Persian we say delam tangete. My heart is tight in your absence.”
“Nobody knows where the future is. Whether it is hiding behind the staggering mosques or the Israeli missiles. Iran: toppling politely over the edge of disaster.”
