Temporary Bride

The only room this way - Part 3

I give him my mouth and he pushes me down onto the mattress. I tell him things to encourage him. I whisper his name and hear my own, spoken warm and urgent in my ear>>>

The only room this way - Part 2

He reaches and pulls a toothbrush from his pocket, asking if we might first brush our teeth. We slide our feet into the sandals and stand side by side at the basin>>>

The only room this way - Part 1

No one ever goes up the dark stairway in the corner. Mine is the only room this way. I sweep my own floors and make the bed each morning>>>

Three and a half hours (Part II)

Three and a half hours (Part I)

Three and a half hours was the time difference that separated us since that humid, late-July evening in Istanbul>>>

Two Cities, Two Taxis - Part 2

During the twenty minute journey from the airport he said nothing and I fidgeted impatiently with my scarf as I sat in the back. I could feel that we would both be happy to be free of each other>>>

Two Cities, Two Taxis - Part 1

From the corners of their bags poked gold-lettered packages of regional sweets - gifts that would likely be tipped onto oval serving plates and passed around later that evening with tea>>>

Ashpazkhune - The House of the Soup Cook (Part 2)

My apartment in London, tucked behind the pre-war facade of a shoe factory, reached by the rumbling of a freight elevator - a peaceful home by day and ‘word of mouth’ cooking school by night - became the scene for a spectacular eating and drinking frenzy>>>

Ashpazkhune - The House of the Soup Cook (Part 1)

Four years later his real wife still lives in Spain and they are still having problems and I still take his calls. Plus I won’t be having sex in Iran. It's probably good to stock up>>>

Yesterday I had your dream - Part 6

Away from Yazd, away from the presence of Vahid’s parents, our being together invited suspicion and intrusive questions. “Who is that girl? >>>

Yesterday I had your dream - Part 5

Thrusting warm, oily packets of sheep’s stomach fried with cinnamon and almonds into our hands he shooed us away, forcing us to eat from our laps perched on some ruined, forgotten building>>>

Yesterday I had your dream - Part 4

It was a slow, nagging Iranian torment but the anticipation made my skin prickle. We lived for hours, sometimes half a day on the taste of just one kiss or half a dozen brushes of warm fingertips>>>

Yesterday I had your dream - Part 3

I saw Vahid before he saw me - he was sitting on a stone bench, his brown eyes tired and his clothes wrinkled from the eight hour bus journey from Yazd>>>

Yesterday I had your dream - Part 2

Standing in our matching blue rubber sandals, leaning awkwardly against the turquoise tiles, we began to plan our first day’s menu which we argued about immediately>>>

Yesterday I had your dream - Part 1

We directed the things we told each other to my black pointed ballerina flats or the shoelaces of his brown loafers, matching them as best as we could with disinterested expressions. I didn't imagine we were really fooling anyone>>>