Zia Ghory
Visitor Dec 31, 1969
He didn’t know what he’d say, but he couldn’t wait to see her. Now all he wanted to do was fall into bed and close his eyes, wake up in his bedroom back home. He got up.
Absence of Light Dec 31, 1969
two poems, two thoughts, one poet
Strange Tales of a Strange House - Al-Kausar Dec 31, 1969
They say the house is haunted. By the ghost of the old man who built it. By the ghost of the one who had sat there at the old man’s bedside as he lay dying, and by the ghosts of those who sometimes return to walk through its corridors once again.
In a Glass of Red Wine Dec 31, 1969
I bend down and pick up the largest, the brightest shard of glass from the glittering gems by my feet. I can see the shadow of red gleaming along its edges. Definitely a sign. In each piece of glass I am someone else. Every reflection of me is a reflectio
add to my favorite writers 
