Fatima Al Matar فاطمة المطر

The sound of a creaking wardrobe door is physically painful Sunshine is too overwhelming, a grey day too unbearable to endure The ...

Immerged from my punishing thoughts to find I was gripping the steering wheel so intensely my knuckles were white and the bones of my h...

Walking along the forlorn seaside today I watched the everchanging greens, blues and greys of the water. How the sky, the farthest t...

Anais Nin said: “I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live. I could not live in any of the worlds of...

It’s usually a feather, a single silky feather, shed on the side of the road not unusual or tragic, just a long elegant feather ...

I sat with him on a huge rock by the sea. It was night time, a bitter cold wind blew, I held my black shawl tighter to my chest and fe...

There is a large bird cage in the front garden of my parents' home. A chicken coop, where many birds were once kept including a f...