Anouar Rahmani
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It would not stop meowing. Naseem pressed his right arm against his chest and pulled his coat tighter. Somewhere behind him, a child began to cry. “Sir,” the security officer said, “I need you to remove your hand from your jacket.” “It is my hand.” “I understand. I still need to see it.” Naseem looked…
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Salman Rushdie was stabbed. A man stubbed him with all the strength that could be mustered. He was hit, punched, and stabbed repeatedly and with great malice, while I filmed with my phone. I couldn’t believe what was happening; I expected an intellectual and philosophical debate. I was waiting for a discussion about literature, thought,…
