A conversation between me and myself. As I go through my regular run-of-the-mill life I come across instances, the mundane to rarely even exciting, when I stop and steal me away from 'the now' to go to a secluded place in my head where I rendezvous with myself. Reflection. Introspection. Self-exploration. Nonsensical babble. P.S. At least one chapter may be dramatically dark. It's just that when you talk to yourself you don't have to add that extra drop of cheeriness just to seem okay. Writing in a state of high emotions makes things seem intense. But I am perfectly okay. As okay as I can be. :-)

How not to write an Islamic love story.