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“License and registration,” he said. The words shook her awake: the open wounds of rejection, the signing of the divorce papers, the empty, silent house, the inevitable revelation to her family and friends, and the long arduous road to a new life without Tom. Karin, with red eyes and smeared makeup, looked up at the officer. “Yes?” “I need to see your license and registration, ma’am,” he said. “Yes, of course,” she said. Her disheveled bag laid open among the strewn legal documents on the passenger seat. “My wallet is here somewhere.” “Fow-er-nin-er-fife we have a ten-six-sev-en on Haverford, copy,” the police radio erupted. The officer squeezed the handset clipped to his chest and pulled it

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© 2020 by Alaa Al Aswany 

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