Ramadan Is Here! (Native Deen style)

Every year this song wakes me up to the sacredness, the possibility, and yes, the fun of this month.

Every year it recommits me to my Lord and my loved ones.

Every year it reminds me that there is a distinctive American Muslim, just as there is a distinctive Saudi Muslim and a distinctive Indonesian Muslim and a distinctive Pakistani Muslim and so on.

Bless +Native Deen for this reminder! Be sure to check them out this month at deen.tv

Flash Fiction: And the Winner Is ...

... me! My 239-word entry I'LL SEE YOU THERE, DARLING took the gold medal this week in +Siobhan Muir 's weekly flash fiction competition. Happy dance! My mentor would approve.

Micro Fiction: I'LL SEE YOU THERE, DARLING

(I had indeed been hitting my word counts ... up until yesterday, that is, when I took a day off from JIHADI. For a lark, I produced this micro fiction entry for +Siobhan Muir's weekly competition. It won!)

"I'll see you there, darling. I'm going straight from work. Wear the new blue suit. Pick a tie that matches." Her voice cold and hard before she hung up.

Her mania for things that match.

I stared out the window at the darkening sky and spotted a starling, hurtling upward, beyond a poplar. Then out of the frame of the window. I dropped the cell phone on the floor. It made a sharp sound on the hardwood that I liked. Perhaps I had cracked something.

All the wine I would be expected to drink. All the smiles I would be obliged to return. All the hands I would have to shake. All the family stories I was sick of telling and hearing. At the base of it all, the ache of hypocrisy. Our little secrets. Her affair. My affair. Just so we could get through Christmas with her family.

Family reunion or no family reunion, this marriage, I decided, was over tonight.

All the papers signed. No kids to hurt. No secrets worth keeping.

A text message flashed on the (apparently still functional) cell phone where it lay face-up on the bedroom floor. (White shirt. Cream tie. The wingtips.)

I picked out a manic grey-and-ivory polka dot shirt and an ancient pair of mauve-checkered slacks.

No tie.

Black Crocs.

No socks.

I tried on the outfit and posed in it before the mirror. I looked outstanding.

See you there, darling.