You wanted him. You wanted him right there at the door. “Can I take you out tonight?” you asked instead and he said, “I have just the clothes for the occasion.”
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Yet she could not remember her own name. She tried recalling all the female names she knew, certain she would recognise hers once she heard it. Fatuma. Naima. Khadija. Hawa. Malyun. Zainab. Ambiya. Batula. Rukiya. Ifrah. Quresha… None sounded like the name she would know to be hers.