Our mouths are dry, desert rock crumbles into gravel, smashed to sand, granules inhaled and stuck to our tongues. The clock stopped talking to us. It mattered little; We thirsted every minute of every hour, every day we’d almost forgotten the taste, but spittle keeps our senses sane, barely. Wells filled, rivers buried, seas seized. The minute and hour hands lie atop each other like frozen lovers. It is almost time to taste, the wind whispers. Time to taste the freshness and honey of life, to wash away grime plastered on teeth. O, Give us our daily, yearly, eternal bread. We’ve been patient, waiting for rainwater. A drop.
Tariq Karibian is a Palestinian-Armenian writer from the Metro-Detroit area. He writes primarily Southwest Asian/North African-inspired work, but his writings also blend his roots with other cultures, traditions, and identities to explore human intersectionality. His debut novel “Sounds of the Watermelon Men” is in development. Tariq holds a B.A. in English Language and Literature from Villanova University and a M.A. in Humanities/Creative Writing from the University of Chicago. Currently, he is a M.F.A. candidate at Emerson College.