The Art
Drama Exhibition Film Literature Music
Editor's Corner
Editorial Feature Video
Around Town
Cafe Citylog Fiction Society Outdoors
Archive
Mailing List
Seasonal Cycle
By Banafsheh Izadi
banafsheh@tehranavenue.com
March 2010
به فارسی بخوانيم
  Email to a friend


II

The weather is hot and feverish. The sound of the siren rings in my ears. People are running every which way. Suddenly, my eyes start to sting. I can’t breathe. I cough non-stop and tears cover the span of my face. I kneel next to a dwindling fire and everything goes black.

A big and strong hand picks me up from the ground. We enter into thick smoke. With the force of the smoke my coughs decrease. I spit out the mucus in myyir8.biz.71.jpg throat. “Open your eyes, open them.” I feel like my eyes are swollen to the size of my head. I can hear the sound of his breaths. I open my eyes with great difficulty and he blows in the smoke of his cigarette and the stinging in my eyes slowly subsides.

He puts the butt of his cigarette to my lips and again everywhere becomes light.

The trees are all green.

III

A slight breeze tickles my neck. It starts to rain. Guests raise their glasses, “Paghoost”. The trees turned red.

VI

From the street walls to the telephone booths, everything is covered with black marks and everyone is clad in black. The smell of free stew being handed out comes from every nook and cranny.

It is cold and the trees are colorless.

I

I take multiple drags from the cigarette. I’m careful for the smoke to not get into anyone’s eyes.

The weather is slowly getting warm and I’m watching the trees to see when they’ll blossom again.

Translated by Shirin Haghgou



Top