GENRE: Historical fiction set in Persia (became Iran circa 1935) from the 1920s to the present
So lost in the exhilaration of play were my brother and I, we noticed not that our reckless meandering had taken us into the salon of our father’s house. The forbidden room.
English teapots and fragile glass vases shuddered on skinny-legged tables. Dignified bookshelves rattled as we heedlessly raced. Napping on child-sized rugs just moments ago
in the garden, we'd awakened to the whispers of the lonesome house, beckoning us inside. We treated the rules as amnesiacs and played no game in particular, save
chase and run; the more obstacles, the better.
Around we darted, two wheels of energy, reeling in giddiness and joy, shadowy feelings of late. I prayed our fun would not end. But end it did, when Cyrus’ elbow struck out and
knocked a fragile teacup over. With all the bossiness of an eight-year-old, I blasted,
"Look what you did!"
My words snatched Cyrus’ smile away. He fixed his gaze on the teacup and blinked back tears. Carefully, I righted it. No harm done. Cyrus’ stare shifted back to me.
Deflated by the sudden stop of our game, I ventured,
"You can’t catch me!"
It took only a moment for the game to begin again. If only…. How many times have lives been mercilessly reshaped thanks to ears closed to those two small words? If only we
regarded the almost accident seriously and returned to civility or merely stepped outside, would our lives have stayed the same?
GENRE: Historical fiction set in Persia (became Iran circa 1935) from the 1920s to the present.