My room in the new place is a cramped one. There is hardly any space to move in it. To open the sliding doors for getting fresh air inside my room (I’m apt to do it at least twice, or thrice a day), I have to scrape my legs between the bed, and sofa. Why Son had the brilliant idea (without asking me first) of moving the two seater into my room? I’ve no idea, but it has certainly made me mad at him.
After Fajr prayer I usually read two pages from the Quran, duas, and then try to memorize a few Ayats till it’s time for the Ishraq prayer. The Quran lies on top of my dresser. It’s handy there. When I finish with my prayers, it’s near. The thing is the dresser is towards the foot of my bed. Technically my feet are much lower, and the Quran is really above. When I lie on the bed, my feet face the dresser, so I worry about being disrespectful.
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt