Author Archives: Areeba

About Areeba

Anne Sexton once said, “Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.” Writing has been Areeba's lifelong passion and she can’t imagine doing anything else because it is the thing she does best. Many of her short stories deal with young women and their struggles to find relevance in their lives. The characters’ sense of fragmentation and displacement is constantly explored in her narratives. Areeba uses writing to explain things to people and to herself; it is a way to create powerful images and explanations that last long after the story has been told. As cliche and redundant as it may seem, she has always hoped that her words could inspire and move someone. Isn’t that what most writers hope for anyway, to be able to have effected someone in such a way as to have made them think and imagine in new and brighter ways?

Taking A Leap

  By Areeba |
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Taking a Leap, image from nasa.gov

A large wooden table was covered in thick, heavy books that had been read through rigorously and were now covered in various colorful stains. Although the window was slightly cracked, letting in a fraction of the summer heat, the room still felt too warm for comfort. In fact, it had begun to nurture a rusty smell over the past few months. The fact that the room’s door remained shut at all times certainly didn’t help the matter. “Demetri, for God’s sake, will you come to … There’s More… →

The Difficulty of Understanding

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thedifficultyofunderstanding

The sun crackled in the sky; its rays, enormous and blinding, brushed on the surface of the yawning waves. Caroline Yates lay on the sand, her husband by her side and their daughter splashing and playing in the water. She looked around, her eyes heavy like armor. The voice of her little girl carried over to her and she turned to watch Lucy’s body dip and rise in the waves. Caroline had never been certain of motherhood. The responsibilities that it imposed and the freedom … There’s More… →

Emptying Out

  By Areeba |
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Emptying Out

For the past few weeks, all I’ve seen is flatland and fields of gold, and I folded myself into music to get out of conversations because all I have to offer anybody is my confusion.  All the plane rides and car rides left me nauseous.  I saw the clouds floating around me and the roads unwinding in front of me, but I still felt as if there was nowhere to go.  Some days I woke up just as the sun was a bursting red and … There’s More… →

Colors

  By Areeba |
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Beautiful Brown Eyes Over Black & White Face

Karrington’s a very clean city.  I can’t ever remember it being littered or cluttered.  I don’t think I really even know what a mess looks like.  We are all taught to be disciplined and orderly as children.  Repetition of hard work at school, in our homes, towards our goals has been ingrained in us until it becomes second nature.  We are competitive, but entirely civil.  It may seem like a laughable or imaginable concept to most people who live outside of here, but to us … There’s More… →

Falling Apart

  By Areeba |
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falling apart

The cold air from the produce aisle tickled the edge of Jake’s elbow.  His eyes were focused on the colorful layers of fresh vegetables and fruits.  The orange and yellow bell peppers caught his attention, and he swiftly reached out to grab them.  Before putting them in the clear bag, he inspected each one, eyeing them for any brown or unappetizing marks.  When he was satisfied, he tied the bag and placed it in the grocery cart. “We can make a really good salad with … There’s More… →

Bound

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bound

My mother was thirty two when she left involuntarily. The autumn leaves swept across the roof of the car, and I watched them carry her away. I was in my fifth year and didn’t understand. I had watched her float like a pantomime late at night, though I never went close. She seemed to sway with urgency as if a fever rattled in her throat. “Death is simpler” she told me years later, tears streaming down her face like a broken a faucet. I never … There’s More… →

Layers of Grief

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layersofgrief

The current of her breath swirled in the air and it did not cease to flux. Anne fumbled with the telephone wire, wondering if she should interrupt her mother. Her throat felt empty like a dried sea in a lingering drought. On this side of the receiver she was the small audience, the only audience to her mother’s drawling concerns. She waited for the silence to emerge, but the voice in the telephone never paused. Anne pictured her mother in her mind — her eyes, … There’s More… →

The Wedding

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thewedding

It was four years ago when I first saw Brandon and it was his shy, delicate smile that stuck in my head for days.  I couldn’t shake it out even when my professors droned on and on about Rocco Art and Humanism and Betty Friedan.  My needs were different then and my ideals came easy.  When we were apart, I searched for his face in the streets I wandered through alone on Saturday afternoons.  Somewhere between the sweltering heat and the confusion, my true hunger … There’s More… →

A Family Visit

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afamilyvisitbyareebaabid

Our families are the roots that connect us to life. We search the earth for meaning and for places that will embrace us without hesitance. We fish low in the water, seeking acceptance and solace, without even realizing that the river running through our veins is the only history we will ever need. Matilda fumbled with the radio, desperately trying to find a decent station to listen to.   Katy, who was sitting on the passenger seat, continued to play with the zipper of her … There’s More… →

In Between the Earth and the Sky

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In Between the Earth and the Sky, by Areeba Abid

The sun shone through the large stained glass windows on the side walls of the church.  Their vibrant colors sparkled and danced gently, as if the golden rays had revealed some hidden light within.  Reverend Bryce walked with meaning, stepping behind the medium sized pulpit like a composer ready to ignite fire in the hearts of his flock.  The short ends of his curls hung loosely on the back of his neck, electrified and charcoal black.  He talked with purpose, flailing his hands with a … There’s More… →