Not the beginning, and of course, would not be the end.

Whatever I wanted to name it did not matter.

To all those who knew that the train station in Cairo was called the door of Iron, and to some who might have known that the name of the western realm of Iraq, Anbar, was Sumerian for Iron; my preferred name for these articles was supposed to be “The Train”

And since this whole conception was aimed to release me from the greatest affliction of all; life, I wanted to label it “Calamity”.

I was then not allowed to think beyond today, but I yearned, and thought of spreading my emotions among those who might care beyond today.

It was not meant to be literary perfect, ideologically acceptable or, in 2008, be even elegant. I wrote in blueprint, beyond chic.

Then “Wheat Fields” superseded.




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