A Romantic Vision

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When Timur returned, I was awkward around him, a little guilty...less than I am going to be.

He sniffed " Did you burn something Raib?"

How is he so peculiar?

I nod and escape.
Timur and I sometimes visit art galleries, Timur is extremely fond of them, also museums, collectables and garage sales.

I tag along and enjoy the little escape with him, he is distinct in these places. I enjoy his company outside our house, too many times we are mistaken for a very happy couple.

Even my neighbour call us 'a lovely pair'

It is so to the eyes, I suppose.
His hair, like chocolate melted into caramel with mine Raven and voracious compliment each other for every sharp feature he has, I have little and round element. He is beautiful in a sad way if that makes sense.

Timur took the door when the bell rang and my heart raced like cars on dirt tracks.
I saw him receive the letter and a book and then he turned to me with no expression on his face.

It is from your mother, he says.
I sigh.

Snatched it from him and ran into my room. The book vibrated under my shivering hands.

But would he even care if he knew Awan was writing to me?

I opened the letter, this one had my mothers name on it but Awan's handwriting.

I sighed. He will not stop, will he?

Dearest Laraib,

This is your mother writing,
(Or perhaps that is what I think she would write to you)
How are you Laraib?
You never call us, never write to us, you've turned yourself into a ghost.
Your father and I loved you so much and all you ever did was sought love elsewhere, like his mother and his father...that ruins me.

I often wonder Laraib if I have been such a bad mother to have deserved this kind of resentment from you.

Daughter, you are so many faces of life I have seen and my sole aim was to protect you from everything and it seems like everything I protected you from escaping into your soul.

It saddens me, this quietness.
Having one child and seeing scorn in her eyes for you murder you in different ways each day. Being barren like this after having a daughter, I think of daughters as to some extent more precious and lucky to have than sons. I love you so much Laraib.

Also Laraib,
Being a woman of passion has it's the price, I could not tell you that...nor could I tell you how easy it is to blame women, I suppose it is the easiest thing.

I have discontinued drinking,
I have also eliminated talks with Timur...
He is fragile, you are fragile...you were mad to marry him.

Laraib,
There is one more reason that he is so wrong for you, for we named you Laraib: without any defects or flaws, flawless and he calls Raib: faults...

Your lonely mother.