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Weekly Contest #84
“To Noor-e jaan-e man hasti[1].” She could still hear him whispering these words into her ear, holding her tight to his chest, running his fingers through her dark brown locks. Earlier that night, as the Imam had finally announced them husband and wife, the loudest echo in her head was the sound of her own heart, beating so wild that any cheering or loud Afghan folk songs seemed almost faded. But now, as she was laying in his embrace, the only sound she could hear was the beating of his heart. In her mind, she silently prayed to Allah, as...
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