Author: Christine Aziz

  I can’t fall into the sentimentality of Mother’s Day, and envy those who can.…

                                             Love creeps in through…

Someone has just given me a copy of Field Marshall el-Sissi’s identity card, and in…

I understand Field Marshall el-Sissi has a wife. I don’t know anyone who has met…

I hover above the city, wingless, every bone as thin as string, taut as an…

Suddenly,  her face in glass, an old moon rising,tide tired.Her eyes, like a child that…

Is it you I pass in  a cafe in  El Fouad street,raising a  cup to your…

She walks across the ticket hall draped in black, clutching a framed photograph Llke a…