by Sonja Nitschke
“I can't eat this meat,” Xan said.
Hana eyed the last can of beans. “Me neither.”
“I never found my cat – what if she was cooked in one of the bombs?”
“Allah protects your cat --” Hana coughed “-- just like he protects my mother.”
“You sure?”
Hana nodded. Xan gave her the last can of beans.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
In Every End of the World Story
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