Omer Othman

The Lack of You

Amongst all the things that do not make sense about you, your disappearance is your most mundane feature. The day you ceased existing in my life, you left me with only the residues of your thoughts. Your black notebook, neatly placed on your bed; its spine, broken; its pages, swollen; its cover: open. On its first page, dry and smudged ink announces you: Nile.