A Thousand Splendid Suns

how time had dragged without him, how she had shuffled about feeling
waylaid, out of balance. How could she ever cope with his permanent
absence?
Maybe it was senseless to want to be near a person so badly here in a
country where bullets had shredded her own brothers to pieces. But all
Laila had to do was picture Tariq going at Khadim with his leg and then
nothing in the world seemed more sensible to her.
* * *
Six months later, in April 1988, Babi came home with big news.
"They signed a treaty!" he said. "In Geneva. It's official! They're
leaving. Within nine months, there won't be any more Soviets in
Afghanistan!"
Mammy was sitting up in bed. She shrugged.
"But the communist regime is staying," she said. "Najibullah is the
Soviets' puppet president. He's not going anywhere. No, the war will go
on. This is not the end"
"Najibullah won't last," said Babi.
"They're leaving, Mammy! They're actually leaving!"
"You two celebrate if you want to. But I won't rest until the Mujahideen
hold a victory parade right here in Kabul"
And, with that, she lay down again and pulled up the blanket.