Only two weeks since he had left, and it was already happening. Time, blunting the edges of those sharp memories. Laila bore down mentally. What had he said? It seemed vital, suddenly, that she know.
Laila closed her eyes. Concentrated.
With the passing of time, she would slowly tire of this exercise. She would find it increasingly exhausting to conjure up, to dust off, to resuscitate once again what was long dead. There would come a day, in fact, years later, when Laila would no longer bewail his loss. Or not as relentlessly; not nearly. There would come a day when the details of his face would begin to slip from memory's grip, when overhearing a mother on the street call after her child by Tariq's name would no longer cut her adrift. She would not miss him as she did now, when the ache of his absence was her unremitting companion—like the phantom pain of an amputee.
Except every once in a long while, when Laila was a grown woman, ironing a shirt or pushing her children on a swing set, something trivial, maybe the warmth of a carpet beneath her feet on a hot day or the curve of a stranger's forehead, would set off a memory of that afternoon together. And it would come rushing back. The spontaneity of it. Their astonishing imprudence...
It would flood her, steal her breath.
But then it would pass. The moment would pass. Leave her feeling deflated, feeling noting but a vague restlessness.
He stopped, turned. He cupped his hands around his mouth. ''For you a thousand times over!'' he said. Then he smiled his Hassan smile and disappeared around the corner.
Khaled HosseiniBu kentin ne çatılarını ışıldatan ayları sayabilirsin,
Ne de duvarlarının gerisine gizlenen bin muhteşem güneşi.
Stichwörter: ay bin-muhteşem-güneş güneş muhteşem
Biliyorsun."
"Neyi biliyorum?"
"Gözlerimin sadece seni gördüğünü.
Stichwörter: seni bin-muhteşem-güneş gözler
about clichés. Avoid them like the plague.
Khaled HosseiniStichwörter: writing-advice cliché
Kinderen zijn geen kleurboeken. Je kunt ze niet met je lievelingskleuren inkleuren.
Khaled HosseiniBoys, Laila came to see, treated friendship the way they treated the sun: its existence undisputed; its radiance best enjoyed, not beheld directly.
Khaled HosseiniStichwörter: friendship boys gender-differences
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Happiness like this is frightening....they only let you be this happy if they're preparing to take something away from you
Khaled HosseiniNot a word passes between us, not because we have nothing to say, but because we don't have to say anything - that is how, it is between people who are each other's first memories
Khaled HosseiniThat night, I waited until Baba fell asleep, and then folded a blanket. I used it as a prayer rug. Bowing my head to the ground, I recited half-forgotten verses from the Koran-verses the mullah had made us commit to memory in Kabul-and asked for kindness from a god I wasn't sure existed. I envied the mullah now, envied his faith and certainty.
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