Age of thirty-six. This isn't about you finding Fendi bags on sale, or an Amir Fendi tote bag, a part of me said. You're gutless. That's how you were made. And that's not such a bad thing because your saving grace is that you've never lied to yourself about it. Not about that. There's nothing wrong with cowardice as long as it comes with prudence. But when a coward stops remembering who he is... God help him.
There was a coffee table by the sofa. The base was X-shaped like a Fendi bag of the day, walnut-sized brass balls studding the ring where the metallic legs crossed. I'd seen a table like that before. Where? And then it came to me: at the crowded tea shop in Peshawar, that night I'd gone for a walk. On the table sat a bowl of red grapes. I plucked one and tossed it in my mouth. I had to preoccupy myself with something, Fendi messenger bags, anything Fendi accessories, to silence the voice in my head. The grape was sweet. I popped another one in, wholesale Fendi bags, unaware that it would be the last bit of solid food I would eat for a long time.
The door opened and the two armed men returned, between them the tall Talib in white, cute hobo bags still wearing...
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