Son when driving is always in a jiffy to reach a place. If I sit in the front seat (I usually do when grandson IB is not in the car with us. When he is: I prefer to sit in the back with him), I remember God with every breath I take.


The car races with demonic speed to its’ destination, and outside the windows, scenes flash by in a blur. I hold onto my seat with both hands, chanting Quranic Verses under my breath to keep us safe, thinking the end is near.



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