Djinn Stories

The air was sweet, heavy with the scent of ripe, cloying fruit. The sound of buzzing near the pomegranates that swayed and hung low in the heat was distracting me enough that the woman’s pulse thudded against mine, the salt of her blood splashed its way down my throat like stolen refugees running for asylum in the new land of a foreigners body, was background noise to the glare of the sun. It felt like my pores were squin...

The party was in full swing a grand celebration in a warm home, as a group of familiar friends and acquaintances gathered for food and drink, music and laughter, waiting and watching for Time to reboot itself, and another year, to be born with the rising of the sun, instead of just a new day or week. It was here, at this mundane gathering, when he approached the Veiled Woman with a drink in his hand. “You have a tear in y...