“And women?” she asked thoughtfully. “What is the world to us?”
Gulnaz offered a meek smile.
“Do you not know, my daughter? Our world is the spaces between the rocks and meat. We see the face that should but doesn’t smile, the sliver of sun between dead tree branches. Time passes differently through a woman’s body. We are haunted by all the hours of yesterday and teased by a few moments of tomorrow. That is how we live—torn between what has already happened and what is yet to come.”
—A House Without Windows.
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