Hello, I am Autism Aware
30 April, 2012
by Abez Education, Family and Community, Featured, Society, Uncategorized 19 comments
Imagine an old widow trying to care for an adult male who communicates by hitting, punching, and breaking- who collapses at home one day and no ambulance is called because her adult son can’t speak let alone use a phone.
Short Story | The Commission
The cubicles were still, the hum of the computers absent and the office nearly empty except for one woman. She was typing intently, turning only to check what she was writing against various charts strewn around her desk. Once she looked at her watch and then began to type with renewed energy. At 6:15 she finished with a flourish of fingers across the keys and then saved her document. She sighed and then gathered up the sheets of paper, sliding them neatly into a folder and then into her desk.
Bonnie: A story of a woman struggling with death and depression
9 November, 2011
by Abez Dawah and Interfaith, Featured, Integration and Interactions, Psychology 25 comments
Half of this story is truth and half of this has not yet happened. Let me tell you the true part first. When the doorbell rang a few weeks ago
Short Story | The Teacher
The hands on the clock said 1:45. She would come at 1:58, though her appointment was at two, and she would walk in and give a polite smile and say, quite simply, “Hello.” And he would smile, genuinely happy, and stand and return the greeting, courteously ask how she was doing and then offer her a chair on the other side of his desk. Then he would sit in tense silence as she opened her bag and took out the grammar books and the lessons for the day. He would look only at her hands as she did because looking at her face would be too obvious.
Short Story | The Teacher
The hands on the clock said 1:45. She would come at 1:58, though her appointment was at two, and she would walk in and give a polite smile and say, quite simply, “Hello.” And he would smile, genuinely happy, and stand and return the greeting, courteously ask how she was doing and then offer her a chair on the other side of his desk. Then he would sit in tense silence as she opened her bag and took out the grammar books and the lessons for the day. He would look only at her hands as she did because looking at her face would be too obvious.
Short Story | The Tower
You’re standing in front of a tall Tower. You reach out and feel the foundation, it’s real enough. You rap against it with your knuckles and the solidness of it kind of hurts, send shivers into your hand. You pass your palm along the wall and it is smooth, flawless. There is no question at all about whether the Tower exists. You smile to yourself and lean against the building whistling a happy tune.
Short Story | The Teacher
The hands on the clock said 1:45. She would come at 1:58, though her appointment was at two, and she would walk in and give a polite smile and say, quite simply, “Hello.” And he would smile, genuinely happy, and stand and return the greeting, courteously ask how she was doing and then offer her a chair on the other side of his desk. Then he would sit in tense silence as she opened her bag and took out the grammar books and the lessons for the day. He would look only at her hands as she did because looking at her face would be too obvious.
Short Story | Ana Asif
The living room was dark except for a thin shaft of light that shone underneath the front door. A clock chimed, once, twice, thrice. The curtains on the window were drawn, and only the faintest glow from the outside world passed through them. In that darkness the father shifted his weight on the sofa.
Sunday Open Thread | Of Badr, ‘Nam, and Baby Names
Having grown up in the US and successfully passed through the public education system, I can tell you more about US military conflicts than the Seerah… it would seem that I belong to a generation of Western-educated Muslims who know more about ‘Nam than Badr, and while modern US History is valuable knowledge for anyone living there, it makes poor material for Muslim baby names.
Short Story | Finding Dawud
I had been looking for my roommate Dawud for an hour and a half before I finally found him. I had checked the dorm, the campus library, the prayer hall
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