In This Issue
This issue celebrates Sekka’s first anniversary and highlights creative work by writers and artists from the Arabian Gulf Region.
A poem by Farah El Sherif from Egypt.
She lives in constant, heart-aching fear of locking people in once they’re in.
Not a single sound could be heard. I looked up and was surprised to see not one but two suns shining down on Earth, if that is where I’m in.
Take me back to that night when the stars were our only witness.
I will pretend to be a Gulf national, thinks Salim, who is from Lebanon, and is already plotting the ways in which he will present, or rather, misrepresent himself.
I can hear you speak, hear you tell a funny joke.
“At home, Bo Ali couldn’t look at Lamya, his beloved wife’s, eyes.”