elisa freschi

(Aadam Aziz tries to pray again after his returnal from Germany to Kashmir, but memories of his friends keep on popping up in his mind:)

‘… You alone we worship, and to You alone we pray for help…’ –so here he was, despite their presence in his head, attempting to re-unite himself with an earlier self which ignored their influence but knew everything it ought to have known […] And my grandfather, lurching upright, made a resolve. Stood. Rolled cheroot. Stared across the lake. And was knocked forever into that middle place, unable to worship a God in whose existence he could not wholly disbelieve. Permanent alteration: a hole.