Member-only story
The Taste of Smoke
A short story by: Angela Ilyasi. This short story is part of a collection of short stories written by the female students of a high school in Kabul that Jawad Rafat and I have translated from Persian to English.
- Salam, my daughter!
- Hello, Father! Did you come? He heard his daughter's voice from afar.
-Yes, my daughter, how are you? Where is your mother?
- I am fine. I had finished my medicines, so she went to the pharmacy. Mom said she had made tea for you under the blanket.
- Okay, I will take it.
The father went toward the blanket in the corner of the room. Pulled out the tiny copper teapot from under the blanket. It was hot. He took three cups of tea out of the four or five cups available in the teapot. He stared at the remaining cups of tea in the teapot. Again he felt like he was burning from the inside. His eyes were trying hard not to let the storm of pains outflow in the form of teardrops on his wrinkled cheeks. For a moment, he sat and cried softly. He did not want his daughter to see his tears. He did not want his daughter to know that her father could not forget the loss of his son, and he was still crying. Slowly and softly, he…
