Manal Khalil
2026
Death was never a sudden halt at the finish line. It was an eternal dance that began with our very first cry. From the moment our feet touched the earth, we have been walking upon the line of ending itself—resisting it, celebrating life, while it practiced its silent art upon us, stroke by stroke. And she remembered: once, long ago, she too had been that infant. She had seen as he saw, felt as he felt. Life had been nothing but that breast, that warmth, that innocence. But now, she gasped as though her breath had stopped, asking herself: Where did that child go? Was she not me?
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