OUT OF TIME - The Collected Short Stories of Samira Azzam by Samira Azzam

Author:Samira Azzam [Azzam, Samira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Palestinian, short stories
Publisher: ArabLit Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I WANT WATER

The familiar tap of light footsteps and the swish of a loose black habit echoed through the room, prompting dancing eyes to shutter and bodies to stretch out in affected repose. Some cunning girls overplayed their hand, letting out snores that didn’t fool Sister Marta for one second. She quietened them by shaking their beds until all was still and only the sound of silence could be heard—that, and the sound of a single head flipping back and forth on its pillow. Every time her tired head turned to the right, the pillow would press down against the envelope beneath, and she’d hear an ominous rustling as the letter’s words stabbed at her head. The prayer on her lips faded away, washed into the quilt by two lines of tears.

The quilt knew her secret: her prayers and supplications had given her away, and so had the long black rosary, its beads hurtling past her thumb and forefinger, as if in a race against Sin. She was paying for the sin with this anxiety that pricked her conscience and ate away at the security of a childhood she had left behind only two months before. The sin had cost her more than the worth of her whole life, a worth announced by this letter that refused to settle for anything less, spurning the penalties she was used to paying for her transgressions. Her punishment for trying to cheat, for example, or for breaking a rule, would be the loss of a necklace, or the slip of a foot on rough ground. She knew there was a price for everything, and she had spent the last week waiting for a judgment for this sin. She’d begged for help from every pale statue that stood in a corner of the church, but not one of them had batted an eyelid. Nor did the ten candles intercede for her, even though she had humbled herself before them. They had all abandoned her, for what mercy awaits someone who lies to God?

What a misery it is to be born female! Is there no way to mark womanhood but the flood? This red flood that Sister Marta said she should expect every three weeks, which brought on all the pain in her stomach, her back, and her knees, making her light-headed and sick. She was barely able to sit or sleep for fear of being given away by a tiny stain that would hand her schoolmates a chance to come at her with snide remarks, like the ones they’d made when it happened the first time, two months ago. It had taken her by surprise, and she hadn’t been prepared or known what to do; she hadn’t even realized it had anything to do with the cramps that had stopped her from joining a game until Salwa—and, out of all her friends, it had to be sharp-tongued Salwa—surprised her by grabbing the hem of her dress from behind, announcing, “I think you’d better show this to Sister Marta.

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