Worshipping Fatima
She offered warmth and command in equal measure. He responded with patience and devotion.
The war in Syria had taken Fatima’s home, her city, the scent of orange blossoms in her family’s courtyard. The journey to America was to be a rebirth, a fragile hope woven from exhaustion. A month after their arrival, a drunk driver on the I-90 sealed her fate entirely. At 43, she was a widow, childless, a beautiful, ornate vase placed on a high, lonely shelf. The English she learned didn’t connect her to this new world;...