I See Creative-writing Classes As Some Sort

In The Army You Feel Violated - There's No Private Space. Writing Was A Life-saver, A Way Of Recovering Private Territory.

Translators Are Like Ninjas. If You Notice Them, They’re No Good.

And She Loved A Man Who Was Made Out Of Nothing. A Few Hours Without Him And Right Away She’d Be Missing Him With Her Whole Body, Sitting In Her Office Surrounded By Polyethylene And Concrete And Thinking Of Him. And Every Time She’d Boil Water For Coffee In Her Ground-floor Office, She’d Let The Steam Cover Her Face, Imagining It Was Him Stroking Her Cheeks, Her Eyelids And She’d Wait For The Day To Be Over, So She Could Go To Her Apartment Building, Climb The Flight Of Stairs, Turn The Key In The Door, And Find Him Waiting For Her, Naked And Still Between The Sheets Of Her Empty Bed.

Being Published In Arabic Is A Strong And Consistent Wish I Have. I Live In The Middle East And Want To Be In Some Sort Of An Unpragmatic Dialogue With My Neighbors.

I Think That Before My Son Was Born, I Didn't Have A Strong Sensation For Future. I Was Living In This Kind Of Never-ending Present.