ايه اللي جابك و بتشكي لمين عذابك | sana, gen, 1.5k
a bit of healing for my girl, post-imagine (we weren’t living in a racist, misogynist freak show). sana goes home.
title from enta tani by haifa wehbe.
Sana stands outside, halfway down the steps to the river. Halfway means that people are less likely to stop and look at her for too long, and she stares intently at her phone, switching between the walking and bus tab where she’s mapping her path home. The walk from SYNG to her flat is 40 minutes. The bus is 24 minutes, and there’s two transfers.
She slides her eyes up to the sky, where the sun is hanging halfway to setting. On her left, someone passes by with white blonde hair and light skin and a biting laugh and she jumps, flinches so deep that the girl looks back over her shoulder at Sana, eyes lingering on her turban, the way the black of her eyeliner has smudged around her eyes. Sana bristles, narrows her eyes, squares her shoulders, remembers who she is. The girl turns around quickly, curling her fingers around white forearm of the man she’s with. Sana thinks that they could pass as siblings, same round blue eyes and light, light hair. She wonders, without heat, how people who get sunburnt after 5 minutes of exposure came to burn and pillage the whole world.