“My mother had organized her literature collection in the order in which she’d read the books. She’d explained her reasoning to me once, her fingers running across the spines. ‘I can retrace my steps this way. The stories that became part of me before I was a mother, and those I read with you in my arms.”

“My mother had organized her literature collection in the order in which she’d read the books. She’d explained her reasoning to me once, her fingers running across the spines. ‘I can retrace my steps this way. The stories that became part of me before I was a mother, and those I read with you in my arms.”

— Nadia Hashimi