Tempest Lew

“Her life was like a paper kite. She would lift her head to watch as it went bobbing by, the breeze taking it farther and farther away.”
― Jokha Alharthi, Bitter Orange Tree

“The fragile bird of life took us along. We clung to its wings so hard that they dissolved in our grip; and so we tried to put those feathers on ourselves. We dressed ourselves in those feathers, and we drank the blood of that bird we had destroyed, and we told ourselves, "We will go on." We kept saying that, even as the bird apart, ripped to pieces in our fingers, and as we had to endure the acrid taste of its blood beneath our tongues. "We will go on," we said. And then we waited expectantly for the bird of life to soar again into the sky, taking us with it. We waited and waited.”
― Jokha Alharthi, Bitter Orange Tree

“All women become their mothers. That is their tragedy.”
― Jokha Alharthi, Bitter Orange Tree

“The clear, beautiful sunset and the dead body.”
― Jokha Alharthi, Bitter Orange Tree