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Strings - Capstone Amal Al Shamsi (1)

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Kicking

The sound of children came from the front of the house, bouncing over the car that stood

in the middle of the driveway.

Hamza was standing in the kitchen, scraping the dregs of coffee from his favorite cup,

when he had been listening to the sound of children from the front of the house. Holding it by

the outer rim, Hamza tapped the metal against the window sill, checking in between intervals if

the grounds were letting go. Coffee was some sort of compost, it would be good for the grass, he

reasoned. Why did he want it gone so badly when he would just add more of the powder in soon

after? It was one of those things. He imagined the stale taste of old coffee, contaminating the

new batch, even though he knew it was all mental.

A boy’s voice rang in his ears. He set the cup down on the edge of the sink. As a boy

himself, he had turned the town upside down, coming home to him in different clothes than he

had left. “Wash then sleep, okay?” Sometimes his sisters would say, if they passed him. “Tell

your father you prayed.”

Was he a better adult for it? Hamza could not know. But he thought the girl ought to

have the same kind of liberty. As daft as it was though, he was always curious about her, what

she was like removed from him.

He walked over to the door before meaning to, he could tell it was meant to be shut. The

door always shuddered when it was slammed closed, unlatching from the door frame and

weaning open slightly. Hamza stepped outside anyway.

Haya was on one side, hair falling out of its bunch. Jasem was bent over, tearing out tufts

of grass. Two other children he vaguely remembered were resting on the grass, one pulling

string out from his bag. Jasem saw this and reached out to grab it,

“If she likes whales so much, she can have whale teeth,” Haya was saying.

“Whales have little mops,” Jasem told her.

“More prickly like brooms,” the only other girl was saying.

“That’s funny,” the other boy said.

“How would we give her whale teeth?”

“Kick, kick, kick,” Jasem said mindlessly, he was wrestling his thumb free from the

twine.

“Kick the teeth in!” the other kid cried, face screwed up.

His daughter roared in laughter.

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