ALEX_BLACK
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Stories (14)
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Colors of Memory
Colors of Memory by ; Hamid Safi The first memory I can recall is red. Not the loud, brash red of a fire engine, but the warm, fading crimson of my grandmother’s kitchen curtains, the ones that caught the afternoon sun and painted the room in a glow that felt like safety. I remember sitting on a wooden chair, legs dangling, watching her knead dough for some bread I didn’t yet understand the meaning of, the aroma filling the space with comfort. Red, I realized, was the color of love—steady, unassuming, and present in the little gestures that quietly shape a childhood.
By ALEX_BLACK5 months ago in Poets
City at Midnight
City at Midnight by Hamid Safi The city never truly sleeps, though at midnight it wears a different face—one that feels almost private, reserved for those willing to wander its empty streets. Streetlights cast halos on wet pavement, their reflections trembling like liquid gold under the faint drizzle. The hum of distant traffic is a whisper now, softened and strange, as if the world has exhaled and left only the shadows.
By ALEX_BLACK5 months ago in Fiction
